Unwelcome Feelings
by Masochistic Cannibal
Summary: [Completed] Ryan thinks about his past, and gets a call about his mother that can change his outlook on things. His past begins to mix with his present, and now he's got to fight to seperate them.
1. Unwanted Routine

Title: Unwelcome Feelings

Author: Masochistic Cannibal

Rating: PG (for language)

Summary: Ryan thinks about his past, and gets a call about his mother that can change his outlook on things.

*~*~*~*~*~*

They never seem to end, no matter what, or how hard I try. Every night, every time I close my eyes and try to get one night of peaceful sleep, the nightmares of my past always find a way into my head, causing me to wake up covered in sweat and minimal air in my lungs.

I sit in the dark pool house, trying to calm my nerves as I rub my hands through my hair, grimacing as my hand becomes slick with sweat. No matter how good my life gets, I'm never going to be able to forget what happened to me in the process of reaching this dream like life here in Newport.

I untangle my legs from the blanket that's wrapped snuggly around my body and let my feet hit the cold floor, standing up as I lift my arms above my head and stretch my cramped back. Every night seems to be the same routine here. Go to sleep, wake up from nightmare, take a shower, and sit out by the pool until the sun comes up and I know it's safe to go into the Cohen's house without disturbing any of them from their peaceful sleep.

The pool house is unusually cool tonight as I wrap my arms around my waist and quickly walk down the hallway to the small bathroom, shutting the door and locking it as I quickly strip off my damp boxers and tank top. 

I discard the clothes into the hamper that's sitting by the door and turn on the water in the shower, waiting until it's hot before jumping in and letting the warm water hit my bare skin. I get goosebumps from the contrast of the cold air and hot water at first, but they slowly fade as I put my palms on the tile in front of me and close my eyes, letting the water cascade down my face and over my body.

I stand in the same spot for what seems like hours, just letting the water aide in the relaxation of my body, but when I step out of the shower and grab my watch off the counter, the clock reads 5:45am, fifteen minutes after the time I actually got in the shower.

I grab a towel that's hanging over one of the doors on the shower and wrap it around my waist, holding it around my body as I walk back to the bedroom and pull a pair of pants, clean boxers, and a clean tank top out of my backpack. I guess, eventually, I'm going to have to put my clothes in the dresser, but I'm used to having something ready in case I need to leave quickly. It's a lot easier to just grab a bag that already has clothes in it, rather than having to go through drawers full of clothes to find something to take with you when you feel the need to run.

I slowly and quietly get dressed, wishing that I could just crawl back into bed and fall asleep, but that option never seems to be available to me. When I finish, I quietly walk out of the pool house and over to the patio chairs sitting on the edge of the pool, relaxing into it as I fold my hands over my stomach and slouch enough that you would think I'm going to fall out of the chair.

My mind immediately begins to wander back to the dream I had tonight, one that I've had plenty of times before. I can barely remember when I was able to get a full nights sleep, but I'm guessing it was before my life began to turn to shit. When our family wasn't constantly having to hassle with my dad being in jail, or all of my mom's abusive boyfriends paying me a visit when she wasn't home, or too drunk to realize that her son was getting the life beaten out of him.

All the nights that I've sat out here, I've tried to rack my brain and figure out how I got to this point. How I hit rock bottom so hard that at one point in my life, before I came to the Cohen's, I would have rather died than to go home and deal with all the problems I was faced with. 

I've been tempted more than once to just end it, to give up and say fuck the world. I shouldn't be here, tainting a town that thinks they're all in the right with their corruption and lies. The people in this town seem to be so far above the world, that they think nothing bad will ever happen to them, as long as they have money.

I sit up in the chair and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and lacing my fingers together on the back of my neck. I always wonder why I was given a second chance, and why it had to be here. People should know by now, that no matter where I go, something bad's going to happen. It's like it's hereditary or something, passed on from father to sons.

I hear quiet footsteps behind me and turn my head slightly, watching as Kirsten approaches me quietly with a coffee cup in one hand and a smile playing across her lips. Why couldn't I have grown up with a mother like her all these years?

"Is this seat taken?" She asks, pointing to the empty seat next to me. I nod my head left and right slightly, and she sits down in the chair, letting out a barely audible sigh as she looks up at the sky.

"I thought you might want some company out here, maybe talk about what's on your mind."

I nod my head again and turn back so that I'm staring at the ground, wishing that I could be happy and carefree like the Cohens are. They have everything they could possibly ever want here.

"You know, most sixteen year olds sleep in until they're dragged out of their beds kicking and screaming, but every morning I wake up to get ready for work, you're sitting out here with your head either in your hands, or your staring up at the sky. Can you at least give me a little hint of what you're thinking about?"

I sit up and look at her, knowing that she won't let me get away anytime soon without telling her at least something. I sigh dramatically and stare blankly in front of me, feeling her eyes bruning into me.

"I was thinking of my past..."

I turn my head as she continues to stare at me, wanting me to say more, but I can't go on without breaking down and do something I haven't done since I was little. I was always taught that crying is for girls, that boys are the tough one's who don't feel pain or sadness, and even though I know it's not true, I still hate crying and allowing people to see me weak.

"The past is the past. You're here with Sandy, Seth, and I, and you don't have to worry about anything anymore. You're part of our family now, and we won't let anything happen to you without putting up a strong fight."

She pats me lightly on the shoulder as she stands up and walks to the door leading into the house, and I turn and look at her at the same time she looks at me.

"I know you need your space, so if you need to talk, you know where you can find me."

With that said, she flashes me a warm smile and walks back into the house, leaving me alone with my haunting thoughts.


	2. The Past Returns

When I first got here, Kirsten was afraid to leave me alone anywhere in the close proximity of her house. I guess she thought I might try and steal something when no one was looking or something, but that's all changed. now on some days, I manage to get home before anyone else, and it's amazing how quiet the house is. Back home, someone was always yelling and screaming, whether it was at the television, or someone else, there was never a calm silence like there is here.

I leave the main house and walk along the side of the pool over to the pool house and pull out my key, shoving it in the lock and opening the door as I throw my book bag down and turn back around. 

A few days ago, Seth decided to be adventurous in his Chem class, and almost killed everyone in a ten foot radius of him, earning him two weeks in detention, and a very severe punishment from Kirsten and Sandy. No comic books, video games, computer, phone, or anything else that will make him the least bit happy for the next month. When Seth basically whined about it, they decided to take his punishment a step further, and now we're supposed to stay away from each other for a little while, in hopes that he might actually learn a lesson from this. I don't think he really will, but no one's going to voluntarily say that out loud, especially Seth.

I walk into the back door of the house and quickly go over to the fridge, pushing things out of the way until I find a bottle of water sitting in the back and pull it out, unscrewing the cap and taking a quick swig of the drink.

As I screw the cap back on, I set the bottle down on the counter and stand still in my spot, listening to the sound of silence around me. It doesn't seem to last though, because once my mind finds a blank spot, it tends to fill it with the unwelcome thoughts from my past.

I pull one of the stools out from under the counter and sit down, letting my head fall into my hands as I rest my elbows on the counter.

I haven't had any abnormal run-in's with Kirsten since the other night, luckily, but I have a feeling she's worrying about me, something I'm not used to at all. Everyone here, they scare me in a way. They're nice, and caring, and all of these things I'm just not used to. I never will be, and I hate the fact that I will probably never really fit in with this family. They want me to, and I sure as hell wouldn't mind it, but every time I let my guard down, someone takes a swing at me and successfully knocks me out. I cant let that happen again, no matter how nice the Cohen's are to me, and I'm sure they'll eventually get tired of me never really trusting them, and decide to get rid of me like mom did.

I sigh dramatically and pick my water bottle up from the counter, about to walk back to the pool house when the phone rings and I drop the water bottle, slightly startled by the intrusive noise. I bend over and pick it up before walking over to the counter and picking up the phone, holding it to my ear as I say 'Hello', my voice slightly different from being startled.

"Hello, my name is Ron Trevor's, I'm the private investigator following Dawn Atwood, can I please speak to Sandy Cohen please?"

My heart seems to jump into my throat at the mere mention of my mom's name, and my feet seem to be rooted in their current spot as I clear my breath and tell the P.I. That Sandy's not home right now.

"This must be Seth than. Can you give your dad a very important message for me?"

I unconsciously nod my head, not really comprehending the fact that he can't see my actions when he repeats his question.

"Sure, what do you need me to tell him?"

"Can you tell him that it seems that Mrs. Atwood was in a bad accident, and passed away in route to the hospital last night? Let him know that she's still been staying at that address I gave him last time, just in case he decides to come by for some reason. Make sure your dad gets the message, thank you."

The investigator talks fast and hangs up, and the phone slowly slides from my hand and clatters to the floor as I sink to my knees, all the feeling draining from my body as I try to comprehend what I just heard.

The silence quickly gets to me, and I grab the edge of the counter, shakily pulling myself up so that I'm standing, and walk towards Sandy's home office, not caring about the fact that I know he hates people being in there.

When I get into the darkened room, I turn on a light and immediately start moving papers and files around, looking for anything that has the mere mention of her name on it, and looking for mainly an address. Papers fall to the floor and into the office chair as my anger quickly rises, and I don't think twice as I pick up a glass plaque from his desk and angrily throw it against the far wall, watching it shatter into hundreds of pieces. I stop my movements as I watch the glass litter the floor, before turning back to his desk and going through all the drawers I can get my hands on.

Finally, I find a small, folded up piece of paper sitting in the middle drawer of his desk, and I open it up, looking at the name Dawn Atwood scrawled across the top. I shove the paper in my pocket and quickly dart out of the room, making my way to the pool house where I grab my ready packed bag and throw it over my shoulder, checking my back pocket for my wallet before running back into the house and calling for a taxi.

My body shakes as I walk outside to the curb and wait impatiently for the cab, contemplating whether or not I should scrap the cab and go get my trusty bike. Fortunately the cab comes before I come to a decision, and I slide into the backseat, giving the driver the address on the paper as he pulls away from the curb.

The words of the Private Investigator play over and over in my head as I watch Newport slip past me and out of sight, the slums of Chino quickly appearing, and making me nauseous as the bile begins to rise in my throat. 

Why couldn't she have stayed? Why didn't she stay and let the Cohen's help her get better, and stay for my sake? I guess it was just a lost cause. We were never meant to be a family, to be happy, or have anyone care about us. We're just another white trash family that lives on the wrong side of the tracks, who's future, no matter who you are, is going to land you in prison.

The cab stops quicker than I expected, and I quietly step out of the car, handing the driver the money for the ride before watching him drive off. The address is for an apartment building, and as I look up at it, I would have to say that this is a very big step down from the house we previously occupied before my mom decided to dump me the first time.

I sigh dramatically, not knowing what exactly I'm doing here as I open the door to the building and start climbing the creaking steps, a strong, nauseating stench filling my nose as I do so.

When I finally find the apartment number I'm looking for, I knock on the rotting wood softly, not expecting anyone to really answer. After a few minutes of silence, I reach my hand down to turn the knob, but jump back slightly when the door suddenly jerks open and A.J. looks at me angrily.


	3. Silent Echos

Disclaimer: The characters of this fic belong to the FOX network. I own nothing…. Really.

~*~*~

(Sandy's POV)

I can tell something's not quite right from the second I walk in the door of the quiet house, but I push the unsettling feeling aside as I set my briefcase down next to the door and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and taking a drink of it.

I set the bottle down on the counter as I open the back patio door and walk out along the pool, my mind not really focusing as I walk up to the pool house and knock on the door, expecting Ryan to answer. After a few moments of silence, I knock quietly again before opening the unlocked door and stepping in, another strange silence welcoming me as I walk further inside. Ryan's supposed to be home by now, and I know he's not supposed to work today.

After checking the pool house thoroughly , making sure the younger kid isn't hiding anywhere, I walk back into the main house just in time to see Seth walking in the front door from his detention, a definite look of annoyance plastered on his face as he lets his backpack drop to the ground.

"Bad day?"

He jumps slightly at the sound of my voice, and nods his head. "This punishment is crap. It was just a stupid experiment gone wrong, do they really have to keep me locked up in school for two weeks?"

There's a slight amount of amusement in his voice as he says 'stupid experiment gone wrong', making me really question his intentions as he walks into the kitchen, out of my sight. I follow behind him a few seconds later, and find him leaning over with his head in the refrigerator, looking for something to drink.

"Seth, your little 'experiment' cost your mom and I more money than you could ever imagine, not to mention you put a whole classroom full of people in danger. I know you don't like most of the people around here, but do you really think they deserve to be blown up?"

He straightens up at my last statement and closes the refrigerator, and he looks around somewhat confused. I follow his eyes around the room until they land on the patio door, and his head quickly snaps back to me.

"What did you do to Ryan?"

I'm thrown off somewhat by his question, and shrug my shoulders, waiting for him to collaborate as he sticks his head into the living room before stopping and looking back at me again.

"Where's Ryan at? He should be home by now."

"Good question, he's not in the pool house. Maybe he's upstairs or something, go check up there, and I'll look down here for any sign of him."

Seth nods his head in agreement before leaving the kitchen and taking the steps two at a time, and just as I step into dining room, I hear Seth calling me from upstairs, his voice laced with concern.

I quickly make my way up the steps and see him standing in the doorway of my office as I walk down the hallway towards him. He seems to be frozen to the spot as he stares into the room, and I feel my stomach lurch as I step up behind him and see the papers and glass scattered around my office.

The sound of the phone ringing seems to echo throughout the silent house, and Seth walks away to go answer it as I walk into my office and look at everything in shock, trying to figure out who and why anyone would want to do this. None of the rest of the house was messed with, so someone must have been pretty adamant on finding something they knew I had.

I jump slightly when I feel Seth tapping me on the shoulder, and I look at him to see him holding the portable phone in his hand, trying to give it to me. I take it from him and hold it to my ear, my mind still clouded with confusion as I say 'hello'.

"Hey Sandy, this is Ron Trevor's, I was just calling to make sure your son gave you the message about Dawn Atwood."

I look at Seth, who's standing next to me, more confused than before as I try to figure everything out in my head. Unless Seth came home during school, than something's not right about that comment.

"I think you're mistaken Ron, Seth just got home from school, he couldn't have taken any messages for me."

The other line is silent for a second before I hear a loud sigh of frustration on the other end, and Ron reluctantly continues talking.

"Please tell me that Ryan wasn't the one home when I called." The tone in his voice definitely isn't a good sign, and I have a feeling that whatever he told Ryan, isn't a good thing either.

"I'm afraid so. How bad is the news?"

"The worst. Unfortunately Mrs. Atwood was killed in an accident last night. I talked to one of the officers involved in the case, and apparently she had been drinking quite a bit when she crossed over into oncoming traffic and hit another car, full of teenagers. One of them was killed, and two others are in the hospital at the moment with minor injuries. They should be released in a couple of days, but it's still pretty bad."

My heart shatters for Ryan, and I can only imagine what he's going through at the moment. She's already abandoned him twice, and now she's done it for a third time, but permanently this time. It took him a while just to get over her leaving this latest time, and I don't know how he's going to deal with losing her completely.

Seth stares at me as I think Ron for the information, and hang up the phone, holding it tightly in my hand as I turn back towards the disastrous office. I have a feeling that everything we've worked towards on helping Ryan get over his past was left in this room with the shattered glass and scattered papers.

"Dad, what's going on? Who was that?"

I turn and look at Seth's confused face, and ignore his questioning look as I grab him by the arm and pull him down the stairs. 

"We have to find Ryan before he does something that he's going to regret."

~*~*~

Next chapter coming real soon.


	4. Unsettling Darkness

Disclaimer: The characters in this fic belong to the FOX network.

*~*~*

My body immediately tenses at the sight of the older man standing in front of me, and I take a step back as he walks into the hallway towards me. I can already smell the stench of alcohol radiating off of him, and as I turn to the side to walk away, he grabs my arm and roughly pulls me into the apartment, causing me to stumble back and fall on my ass.

If it weren't for all the other time's I've been put in this position, I would probably be scared shitless of the bigger and stronger man as he stumbles towards me, almost falling on his face as he does so.

"I guess you heard about that slut of a mother of yours. I always knew she would die doing something stupid, but he'll, I didn't think she would kill an innocent kid in the process."

His words are menacing as he slowly comes towards me, and I feel the anger rising in my with each word that leaves his mouth. He did this to her, he kept letting her get drunk, and kept providing her with the drugs to fuel her habit.

"You know, there was only one negative thing about your mom dieing in that car accident; she left a worthless piece of shit son behind, who's done nothing but cause trouble for anyone he meets. You should have been in that car with her, that way it could have gotten rid of two major hassles in my life."

His words seem to set me off, and I charge at the drunk man, finally gaining enough guts to defend myself as he falls back to the ground and I sit over him, allowing my fists to connect with his face repeatedly like he's done to me so many times in the past.

I try to kick him away from my as he grabs my wrists and flips me over so that my back is flat against the ground, and I claw at his hands as he wraps them around my throat and starts choking me.

I use one of my hands to feel around me, looking for some sort of weapon to get him off me, and I'm successful as I pick up and empty beer bottle off the floor and slam it against the side of his head. Unfortunately he doesn't get knocked out the way I'd hoped, but he does release my neck long enough for me to knee him in the balls. He doubles over in pain, but it doesn't seem to last long enough as he tries to grab my ankle as I run towards the door. His fingers get a loose grip on me, but I kick him away and open the door quickly, causing it to slam against the wall as I run down the hallway.

It's not until I'm outside of the apartment building, standing on the curb, that I realize that I left my backpack in the apartment, and I curse loudly when I realize my wallet and all of my money is in it.

I run my hands through my hair and try to calm my nerves as I look around at my surroundings, trying to remember what direction the hospital is in.

It doesn't take long to remember where it is, considering I've been there plenty of times before due to the asshole back in the apartment building, and I shove my hands in my pocket as I walk down the street, in the direction of the hospital.

I continuously re-play the scene of my mom leaving the Cohen's in my head, and I feel myself getting angry at her. She didn't care one bit about me, no matter how much she thinks she did. If she cared one ounce, she would have taken two seconds out of her life to pick up a phone and called me, to at least check to make sure I was still alive.

By the time I finally reach the hospital, the only feelings I have left for her are anger and hate, and I'm not sure I even want to be here anymore, to see what kind of destruction she did to herself.

I stand in front of the large brick hospital, my stomach churning itself into knots as I contemplate whether or not I should actually go in. This is what I came back to Chino for though, and after a few minutes, I decide I have a few things I need to say to her, and it's either now or never, no turning back now.

I don't bother stopping to ask for directions to the morgue as I walk in, I've been there plenty of times before after most of my previous friends were killed or died by their own hands. If Sandy hadn't got me out when he did, I might have become the next occupant of a body bag.

When I walk into the cold room, there's a lady in her mid-forties sitting at a desk, typing away on her computer, and she looks up at me as I clear my throat. She looks somewhat startled at first, probably by the bruise that has been undoubtedly left behind on my neck, and after a few seconds of just staring at me, she asks me what I need.

"My mom was killed in a car accident last night, and I need to identify the body."

The lady seems somewhat taken back by my emotionless voice, and she tells me to hold on one second before disappearing through a door that says 'Morgue' on it.

She returns a few seconds later with an older gentleman, probably in his sixties, following close behind her, and he extends his hand to me as he introduces himself as Doctor Collins.

"I presume Dawn Atwood is your mother?"

I nod my head, slightly confused as to how he knew, and he picks up on my confusion quickly as he begins to explain.

"She's the only woman killed in a car accident last night. I was just about to start her autopsy, but I'll give you a few minutes alone with her if you'd like."

I nod my head again, and he instructs me to follow him as we walk through the door he came out of previously. The room smells heavily of death as we walk over to a metal table in the middle of the room, where a body is covered completely with a white sheet.

Before the doctor can get a chance to do anything, I reach for the sheet and pull it back, revealing the bruised and battered face of my mother.

The doctor seems somewhat shocked by my actions, but I ignore him as he tells me he'll give me a few minutes alone, and walks back out of the room, allowing the door to close quietly behind him.

I can't seem to pull my eyes away from the lifeless form in front of me, and I just want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her violently, asking her why she had to leave me. We could have been a family, we could both still be together if she would have just stayed at the Cohen's and got help.

I grab the edge of the metal slab with my hands and hold it tightly as I manage to pull my eyes from her and look around the room, wishing there was something I could just throw or break.

Everything was perfect at the Cohen's. For one day, our past, all of our problems had disappeared, and it felt like we were actually a family. I felt like she cared for me, but then she had to fall back into her old habits. All she had to do was tell the waiter at the party 'no' when he offered her a drink, but a drink is more important to her than I am. It always has been, I should have known she wouldn't change.

I feel a lone tear slide down me cheek, and I get angry at myself. I notice a tray sitting a short distance from the table with different scalpels and other utensils on it, and I use all my strength to pick it up and throw it against the wall, listening as the tray breaks and the utensils go everywhere.

The door slams open, and I expect the doctor to come in, but instead Sandy runs in and grabs me, pinning my arms to my side as he tries to calm me down. I start kicking my legs around and trying to pull my arms away from him, but it's no use as his strength over powers me.

I start screaming 'I hate her' loudly as Sandy tries to hold me still and the doctor lifts up the sleeve to my shirt, and sticks me in the arm with something sharp. It's only a matter of seconds before I feel my body becoming limp, and Sandy gently lowers me to the ground as I fight to keep my eyelids open.

"Ryan, everything's okay, just close your eyes and get some sleep."

I try to resist the urge, but I soon lose the fight as my eyelids slide close on their own accord, and I'm pulled into an unsettling darkness.


	5. Needed Care

Thanks for the reviews. I was going to quit after the second chapter, b/c I felt like I wasn't getting the characters exactly right, but the reviews are helping me feel a little better about writing OC fics. 

*~*~*

(Sandy's POV)

Ryan's eyelids slide close against their own will, and I hold his limp body in my arms, trying to catch my breath as the doctor checks Ryan's heart rate and breathing. He directs the nurse that was previously sitting in the other room to go get a wheelchair, and as I turn to watch her leave, I see Seth standing in the doorway, his hands buried in his pockets and his face flushed from shock at what he just saw.

The nurse returns a few moments later with a wheelchair, and I turn my attention back to Ryan as I pick him up and set him in the wheelchair. The doctor walks over to the side of the room, and I manage to stop him as he picks up a phone in a attempt to call security.

"He just lost his moth, he's just a little... emotional at the moment. I promise to pay for any of the damage that he's done, just let me take him home so my wife and I can take care of him ourselves. The last thing that would help him is to be sent to the psych ward, just because he's trying to deal with a loss."

He looks over at Ryan before looking back at me, and reluctantly takes his hand off the phone before telling the nurse to help escort us out of the hospital. I think the doctor and give him one of my business cards, telling him to call me with the bill before grabbing Seth's arm and pulling him out of the room as we follow the nurse who's pushing Ryan.

As we walk through the sterile halls of the hospital, I look over at Seth who's still pale and speechless. His eyes are focused on the back of Ryan, and I squeeze his arm gently, causing him to look at me.

"Are you okay?" My voice comes out slightly cracked, and I curse myself quietly as he looks angrily at me.

"What did you do to him?"

There's a look in his eyes that I've never seen before, and I let go of his arm as he pulls away from me, and continues to look at me, waiting for my response.

"The doctor sedated him to calm him down. He'll be okay in a few hours, he just needs to sleep it off."

He doesn't say anything else to me as he opens the back passenger door and gets in the car, letting the door slam shut as I turn back to the nurse and help her put Ryan in the front passenger seat. I thank the lady as I put the seatbelt over Ryan's shoulder and buckle him in before laying the seat back a little so that he'll be more comfortable.

As I get in the drivers seat of the car, I look back at Seth who's staring out the window, and then look at Ryan, who's sleeping with a pained expression on his face.

The ride home is a deathly silence as the unconscious teenager sits in the seat next to me, his head turned to the side facing towards me, and I reach over and grab his hand that's resting in his lap. His skin is somewhat cold and pale, but I feel like I can still feel him shaking, like he was at the hospital before he was sedated. I look over at him, expecting him to be awake, but his eyes are still closed as he seemingly fights against whatever it is he's dreaming about.

I notice Seth move in the backseat slightly, and look back to see him staring quietly out the window. I try to rack my brain for something to say to him, something that will explain to him why we had to sedate Ryan, but all I draw are blanks as I turn into the driveway and shut the engine off.

The second I turn the car off, Seth jumps out of the car and walks up the driveway, passing by Kirsten as he enters the house and immediately goes up the stairs. Kirsten looks at him worried, before turning back to me and coming over to the car, enveloping me in a hug as I step out of the car.

"What's wrong with Seth?"

She pulls away from the hug and follows me as I walk over to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and removing the seatbelt from the younger man.

"He's mad that we had to sedate Ryan. I don't think he realizes how much anger Ryan has built up in him, and that at any minute he could just completely go off again the way he did at the morgue. Seth's just trying to be protective of his brother, the same way we are."

"And how is Ryan doing? You were vague about what exactly happened when you called me earlier." She reaches over and brushes a stray hair from Ryan's face as she talks, and I can see how he's becoming more and more part of this family everyday. He's our son, and Seth's brother, and I will fight anyone who steps in my way of keeping it that way.

"The doctor gave him a mild sedative, but he said Ryan should be out until the morning. I want him to stay in the guestroom tonight so we can keep an eye on him though, just in case he does wake up in the middle of the night. I think he's just having a lot of mixed feelings about how he should be dealing with this."

She nods her head and steps away from the door as I move in closer and slip my hands behind Ryan's back and under his knees, pulling his limp body out of the car as I begin to walk towards the house. Kirsten follows close behind me as I enter the house, and she closes the door behind us as I make my way into the guestroom and lay Ryan on the bed. 

Kirsten walks into the room seconds later, and pulls the blanket up around Ryan's sleeping form after I remove his shoes, and I hold her close to me as we stand on the side of the bed, watching the younger boy sleep quietly.

"Sandy, What are we going to do? I know he felt abandoned before when his mom left the first two times, but now she's abandoned him completely. I know we're his family now, but he's not just going to forget about this." Kirsten's voice is soft as she continues to watch him, and I wrap my arms tightly around her waist holding her close to me like she might disappear if I let her go.

"We can do everything we can for him. Let him know that we're here anytime he needs to talk, and let him know that no matter what, we won't abandon him or let him slip through our fingers. This is where he belongs, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let him believe that he's in this alone."

Kirsten pulls my arms away from her, and I watch confused as she walks over to Ryan and turns his head to the side, her fingers brushing gently over his neck as she stares down at him.

"Sandy, what happened to his neck?"

I quickly walk over to her, hearing the fear in her voice, and look at the dark bruise circling his neck. I don't remember seeing it there before, and I definitely don't remember him getting it from the hospital.

"I don't know, I didn't see it there before. He must have gotten it before he went to see his mom."

She traces her fingers over it lightly before leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, and I pull her up so she's standing as I tell her to let him get some sleep, and that we can talk about it in the morning.

She reluctantly follows me out of the room, and I leave to door open a slight bit as we walk into the living room and sit on the couch, letting the dark silence surround us. Kirsten yawns quietly from next to me, and I pull her down so that she's lying with her head in my lap. 

We sit on the couch for a good hour with neither of us talking, and after a while, I finally hear her breathing becoming steady as she finally falls asleep. My mind is too busy playing the days events in my head over and over again, preventing me from getting any sleep, and I just stare blankly in front of me as I wait for morning to come, so that maybe we'll all be able to sit and talk about this, and figure out what's going on in Ryan's head.

*~*~*

Please Review


	6. Flooded Memories

I'm really sorry this update took so long. I've had it written in my spiral for about a week now, but every time I planned on typing it up, one thing or another came up. I just started my new job last week, plus I have finals in a few weeks, so everything is piling up on me at the moment. Thank you all for the reviews, and I hope this chapter is as good as you expect, I'm not all that good with writing out emotions like this.

IMPORTANT A/N: Partway through the chapter, it may seem at first that I messed up on the names, but I didn't, it's just how I wrote Ryan's thoughts and memories.

~*~*~

(Ryan's POV)

The house is filled with an eerie silence as I slowly wake up from my sedated sleep and roll over onto my back, rubbing my face with my hands before allowing my eyelids to slide open and reveal the living world to me again.

Everything from the previous night is hazy as I sit up in the bed and look around, noticing that I'm not in the pool house as usual, but in the guest bedroom of the main house instead. The door to the room is slightly opened, making me a bit uncomfortable as I shakily stand up and walk over to it, closing it quietly so no one can hear me.

There's another door leading to the guest bathroom on the other side of the room, and I slowly and carefully walk over to it as a wave of nausea washes over me for a split second, leaving as quickly as it came.

When I get into the small bathroom, I close the door and stand in front of the large mirror, taking in the pale image that stands in front of me, the dark bruises littering my face, arms, and neck.

I raise my fingers to my neck and gently touch the dark bruise encircling it, and the second my fingers seem to come in contact with it, all the images of the previous days events come rushing at me like a tidal wave and I quickly fall to my knees in front of the toilet as I begin to dry heave into the white porcelain.

The sound of me hacking up the stomach contents I don't have seems to alert everyone in the house as the bathroom door bursts open, and a pair of hands quickly find their way to my back as Kirsten whispers quietly that everything's going to be okay, and that they're going to help me through it every step of the way.

I want to believe her, but I've been lied to so many times that I have a hard time trusting anyone who says they care. My mom always used to tell me she cared about me when she wanted me to go out and find her some money for her drug and alcohol problems, or when she wanted to pretend like she was sorry that she allowed her god forsaken boyfriend to put me in the hospital.

You would think that at least the people at the hospital would care that you were almost killed by one of your own 'caregivers', but you're just a paycheck to them. If you don't have insurance, they have no room in their hearts to consider the fact that the next time you go in there, it will probably be in a body bag because they were too busy looking for the dollar signs the last time you were there with gash's covering your body.

As my thoughts begin to mix together with my past, I open my eyes that I've had closed for the past few minutes and turn my head slightly, looking at A.J., who in turn is starring down at me like I'm the scum of the earth. I can feel Dawn's presence behind me, and the sudden need to get away from the two of them rises in me as I use the edge of the counter top closest to me to steady myself as I pull my body up off the floor.

I push the hand away that's gone from my back to my arm, and I can feel the sweat covering my body as I turn towards the door and push my way past A.J. as he stares at me blankly.

I hear the two people calling after me as I use all my strength to quickly walk out of the room and through the kitchen, almost falling on my face as I open the back door and stumble into the hot sun. I feel someone's strong hand grab my arm, but I push the person away from me and yell at them to leave me the fuck alone before stumbling into the pool house and locking the door before anyone can come in.

I try to calm my breathing as I walk over to the bed and lower myself on it, my mind reeling from all the images and memories that are flooding it. I want to get away from them; the voices and faces of my tormentors, my nightmares and fears. I just want to be alone.

I lay on my side and draw my knees to my chin, trying to block out the sounds as I hear A.J. and Dawn screaming at each other, telling each other how much of a fuck up I am and that they need to get rid of me quickly before I screw their lives up more than what they already are. I can hear the shakiness in Dawn's voice, and I can tell right away that she's doped up on something heavy, something that will cause her not to remember any part of this day when she wakes up tomorrow.

After a few minutes, the voices finally disappear from outside and I slowly sit up in the bed, looking around and blinking rapidly as I realize I'm not in Chino.

I look around for Dawn and A.J., but I quickly realize that all of it was just my imagination as I hear Sandy knock on one of the glass doors to the pool house and call my name quietly. He keeps calling my name repeatedly, telling me to open the door so that we can talk, and in a fit of anger and other mixed emotions, I pick up a textbook that's sitting next to the bed and throw it at one of the pool house doors, watching as the glass shatters and falls to the floor.

After a few seconds, Sandy carefully sticks his hand through the door where the glass previously was and unlocks it. There's a plethora of emotions covering his face when he walks into the small room, but the one that seems to be more noticeable is the anger as he walks over and stops next to the bed.

He makes a swift motion, like A.J. used to do whenever he would hit me, and I quickly jump away from Sandy, standing up and preparing myself in case I need to lock myself in the bathroom to avoid anymore beatings from people who 'care'. He looks at me slightly shocked, and I look at the book in his extended hand that he was just trying to give back to me.

"Ryan, did you think I was going to hit you?"

I open my mouth to answer him, but the only thing that comes out is a quiet sob that surprises both of us. I quickly turn my back to Sandy and cover my mouth, trying to keep the tears in that are threatening to escape as I feel his eyes boring holes into the back of my body.

She's not worth it; Dawn and anything in relation to her isn't worth the tears. The only thing she deserves from me is the one thing I stopped doing the second time she left. I don't care what she did or where she went after she left here, and I certainly shouldn't care that after all that she's put me through, she did something so stupid as to get herself killed, along with some innocent kid.

But the problem is that somewhere deep inside me, I do care. She's my mother, she's supposed to be there and care about me, and I actually hoped she would get better. I wanted her to come back for me, prepared to be the real mother that she's supposed to be without the drugs and alcohol.

"Ryan honey, can you hear me?"

Kirsten's soft voice appears from behind me, and it isn't until she's standing in front of me, pulling me into a hug that I realize my cheeks have become moist with tears. Her arms envelop me tightly as she rubs my back gently, and the walls that I've spent sixteen years building up around me seem to crumble as I breakdown in her arms, realizing that I have no one left, and that my mom will never be coming back for me the way she was supposed to.

My family, all my old friends and enemy's, they seem to have disappeared right out from under me, leaving me nothing but an empty shell with these terrifying memories. People have always told me that if I kept things inside for too long and not talk about them, that it would cause some serious problems for me in the future, I just never wanted to believe them. 

It's so much easier for me to just hide my feelings and act like the person they want me to be. Marissa, Seth, the Cohen's, they all want me to be this happy kid who's life they saved from ending in a terrible place like juvie, so I put on the façade around them, around everyone, but I cant do it anymore. I can't pretend that my past just slipped my mind like a bad case of amnesia, and now I'm cracking and they're all going to see it. They're going to see how fucked up I really am, and how big of a mistake they made by bringing me here. I'm beyond help, and there's nothing anyone can do to save me.

"Ryan honey, I can't understand what you're saying."

I'm pulled from my terrifying thoughts as Kirsten looks at me concerned, and I look back at her, confused by her words.

"You were mumbling something, what were you saying?"

I quickly look away from her questioning eyes and fixate them on a spot on the carpet, whispering to her that I'm tired in a voice so low that even I can barely hear it. She seems to except my lie and nods her head, helping me over to the bed that's lying in the middle of the pool house so that I can lie down.

Kirsten sits down on the edge of the bed as I pull the comforter over my aching body, and she leans down and kisses my forehead gently as I close my eyes and listen to the quiet around me. I don't think this is something I would ever be able to get used to, the quiet. 

"Kirsten…"

It seems almost impossible to choke out the simplest words, but Kirsten seems to hear it nonetheless as I feel her hand lightly smoothing over my cheek.

"Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

She doesn't say anything in response to my question, but simply pulls me closer to her like I'm a small child as she holds me partially in her lap with the top of my head under chin, flattening my hair out as she gently rocks back and forth.

I squeeze my eyes closed tightly, and the tears seem to immediately find their way back to my cheeks as I silently let them fall, too weak and emotionally drained to stop them anymore. Maybe it's best that they see me like this, so I can find out how they all feel about how screwed up I really am. 

It's never too late to runaway from them, from what's to become my past, not after I've been doing it for so long.

~*~*~

Hope you guys liked it, and hopefully I'll have the next chapter up sooner than not.


	7. Get Over It

Disclaimer: FOX owns the characters, but I own the story line.

I wrote this chapter three different times trying to come up with one that didn't suck so much ass, so hopefully you like the final result. Thanks for all the reviews so far.

~*~*~*~

It's only a matter of a few hours before I sit straight up in bed, my breath catching in my throat as I struggle to pull myself from the depths of my nightmare and back into the real world around me. Luckily there's no sign of the Cohen's around, and I let out a dramatic sigh as I let my body fall back onto the bed, exhausted both emotionally and physically.

My head is pounding painfully due to a severe migraine as I go over everything that's been happening the past few days, and I feel the sudden urge to just crawl back under the comforter on my bed and fall asleep for the next few weeks in an attempt to get rid of all these thoughts and flashbacks of my past.

Before I get a chance to put my plan into action, someone knocks lightly on the pool house door, and without waiting for me to answer, they walk into the dark and dreary world that I've created around myself. 

Seth looks at me somewhat surprised as he walks in, like he didn't expect me to be awake for the next few days, and an awkward silence fills the room as he opens and closes his mouth, trying to think of something to say since he apparently came unprepared with any sort of dialogue, something totally unlike Seth.

"I didn't mean to bother you, mom and dad just left for a meeting over the wet lands property and it was a little too quiet in the house. If you want me to leave though…"

I cut him off by waving my hand in the air before he can even finish his last statement, and a small grin spreads across his face as he closes the door behind him and sits next to me on the bed.

"I'm sorry I haven't been such great company for the last few days, my mind has kind of been in other places lately."

My attempt to break the silence doesn't get very far as Seth turns his head and stares at me blankly, something definitely plaguing his mind as he seems to be having his own conversation in his head.

"Seth…"

As I pull him from his thoughts, he shakes his head as if to get rid of the voices and looks at me apologetically before holding up a stack of comic books that he brought in with him. He silently hands me the latest Legion comic, but I set it down between us quickly before grabbing the comic book out of his hand that he's trying to read and throwing it on top of the Legion comic.

"Don't treat me like this Seth. Don't look at me like you're seeing me for the first time."

He looks only slightly stunned at my outburst and shifts uncomfortably next to me as he opens his mouth to speak, his voice a little louder than I expect.

"Maybe that's because until a few days ago the only emotion you really showed around here in Newport was anger; all the fights you get into and shit. Of course there's the rare occasion when you smile or laugh, but until I saw you flip out at the hospital the other day, I figured that maybe you just don't like living here, or maybe it's going to take a little longer than a few months to 'break out of your shell'. But after seeing that and all the outbursts since, it makes me wonder if you'll ever be happy where you are now."

He takes a deep breath after finishing his rant, and I stare blankly in front of me, trying to process everything in my already screwed up head.

"Ryan, I know everyone else is afraid to say it, but she's gone. She left you not once or twice, but three times, and this time she took an innocent kid with her and she's not coming back. She's not here anymore, but my mom and dad are, so give them a chance. And I know all of this sounds cheesy or whatever at the moment, but in the sixteen years I've known my parents, they've never been this torn up over anything."

Before I get a chance to say anything, Seth grabs the comic he was reading previously and stands up, leaving the pool house as he shuts the door quietly behind him.

--------

(Sandy's POV)

The house is quiet when Kirsten and I walk in, much like the way it was when I walked in the day that Ryan found out that his mom had died, but now that I think about it, it was this quiet almost everyday before Ryan came here. For a kid who doesn't talk all that much, he sure does make the house feel a lot less empty, whether he and Seth are doing something they shouldn't be, or just playing video games in the living room.

"I'm going to go check on Ryan and make sure he's doing okay. He should probably get something in his stomach before he gets sick."

I nod my head and give Kirsten a quick kiss on the lips before she walks through the kitchen and out the back towards, heading in the direction of the pool house as I go up the stairs and stop in front of Seth's door.

I knock quietly before opening the door, and he looks up from his comic book as I walk in and sit on the edge of his bed. He looks at me for only a split second before going back to his reading material, and I can immediately tell he did something that he really shouldn't have ,but I decide to avoid the question for the moment.

"Why aren't you outside hanging with Ryan? I'm sure he's a little lonely out there by himself." 

He shrugs his shoulders, and although he never pulls his eyes from the comic book, I can see the slightly guilty look spreading across his face like a wild fire.

"I uh, already went out there and talked to him. He wasn't much in the mood for company, so I left him with some of my comic books and came back up here. I guess it's going to take him a little longer to get over his mom than I thought.

The last sentence catches me off guard, but before I can question him about it, I hear Kirsten running up the stairs before coming into Seth's room breathless.

"Ryan's… gone."

I look at her shocked as she struggles to catch her breath, and my head immediately snaps to Seth as he stares at his mother with wide eyes, the look of guilt becoming more evident.

"Seth, what did you say to him?"

"What? All I did was tell him to give you and mom a chance. Dawn was never really a mother to him in the first place, I don't see what the big deal is."

"What the hell do you mean 'big deal'? She was his mother and no matter how poor of a job she did at it, that still means something to Ryan. You can't just replace a parent over night, especially when they just died."

"Sandy calm down, I'm sure Ryan just needed to get out, he's been stuck in the house for the past two days."

Kirsten tries to ease the tension in the room as I stare angrily at Seth, and he looks back at me slightly scared, something I've never seen in him before. My guilt manages to catch up with me in a matter of seconds, and I quietly apologize to Seth as I walk out of the room and down the stairs to go in search of Ryan.

~*~*~*~

I know the chapters are short, but I'm supposed to be studying for my finals that are in two weeks, and I also have three papers that are due next week.

More coming soon. Don't forget to review.


	8. Coming Back

(Kirsten's POV)

Sandy paces back and forth across the living room, his hands rubbing through his disheveled hair nervously as he waits impatiently on any word of Ryan's whereabouts. It's been over twenty four hours since we've informed the police of his disappearance, and I know that every second that goes by with no word from him increases the risk of not finding him at all.

"Sandy will you please sit down, you're making me dizzy."

Sandy stops for just a brief second to glare at me before resuming his pacing, and you can almost cut the tension in the room with a knife. All of our nerves are wearing thin from worry and fear, and soon we won't even be able to sit in the same room without getting into a very un-needed, and unwanted argument.

I see some movement out of the corner of my eyes and turn my head just in time to see Seth walking into the kitchen, clad in his robe, boxers, and undershirt. He looks worse for the wear, and I'm sure he probably feels the same way to. 

He comes back out seconds later holding a bottle of water, and I get out of my seat on the living room couch and walk over to him before he can get a chance to go back upstairs into hiding.

His skin is cold and pale as I grab him by the arm, and he flinches slightly as I stop him from going upstairs. He doesn't even bother to turn towards me as he stands rooted at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fixated on some spot in front of him, and I gently put my hand on his cheek, forcing him to turn his head towards me.

"How are you feeling honey, we haven't seen much of you since yesterday."

He barely shrugs his shoulders before pulling his arm from my grasp and walking back up the stairs, shutting his door quietly and separating himself from the real world that we're all trying to avoid at the moment.

"He's going to school tomorrow, make sure he understands that."

I spin around to Sandy's cold voice behind me and look at him horrified, never expecting him to turn on his own son in this manner. In the past twenty-four hours, my husband has managed to transfer himself into a completely different person that not even I want to be around.

"Sandy give him a break, don't you think he's sitting up there blaming himself every minute for Ryan leaving? You have no right to treat him like that, he's your son and he made a mistake. Ryan's made plenty of mistakes since he's been here, and you have yet to get mad at him the way you are at Seth."

I brush past Sandy, not really wanting to have to deal with him anymore at the moment because of the way he's acting. As I walk into the kitchen, I bump into Ryan as he stands in the doorway, listening in on mine and Sandy's conversation.

He's staring intently at the ground, and I feel Sandy come up behind me as I stare at the younger boy in shock, not really expecting him to have come back on his own. I open my mouth to say something to the quiet teen, but I'm cut off by Ryan as he takes a step back towards the pool house.

"I'll go pack my bags."

His words are barely audible as he turns to walk back through the open patio doors, but I stop him in the same manner as I did Seth and force him to look up at me, his eyes empty and dark as he tries to avoid looking into my eyes.

There's wet trails marking his cheeks from where he's been crying, and I quickly pull him into a hug as a quiet sob escapes his throat, causing an echo to float throughout the large house. He doesn't respond to me as he keeps his hands at his sides, but that doesn't stop me as I continue to hold him close.

"I just wanted some space, I didn't mean to make anyone mad."

His voice is that of a small, scared child, and I pull away from him and nod, using the pads of my thumbs to wipe his cheeks as he goes back to staring at the ground. 

Months of him trying to get used to us and open up to us has completely gone out the window in a matter of seconds, and I have a feeling it's going to take him longer this time to feel like he's at home and is a part of the family again.

"You really should have told someone that you were leaving Ryan, we would have understood. We were terrified when we couldn't find you anywhere."

He continues staring at the ground, and Sandy decides it his turn to play the bad cop role that he's been enjoying way too much lately as he steps up next to the emotionally damaged teenager and forces him to look at him.

"Ryan, we have the cops out looking for you right now, do you not see how serious this is? For now on, I want you in the guest bedroom where we can keep an eye on you; you can't just disappear the way you did yesterday."

"Sandy, what is your problem? We've been hovering over him for the past few days, I'm sure he just wanted to be alone to think about some things without anyone around to stare down at him. I agree with you that he should have told us, but forcing him to stay in here and take away his privacy is no way to deal with this."

My words come out slightly louder than intended, and I can see Ryan flinch as he steps back towards the corner of the room, a look of fear quickly beginning to shine through in his eyes.

"What do you mean 'what's wrong with me'? You said you didn't want me playing favorites between the two, so this is me doing exactly what you said to. Both of the boys are going to school tomorrow, Ryan is grounded for the next two weeks for leaving, and that's final."

Ryan is visibly shaking as he slowly inches his way out of the kitchen, and I make no attempt at stopping him as he quickly walks the remaining way out of the kitchen and into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him and locking it.

"Maybe you should be the one to sleep in the pool house tonight, because I sure in hell don't want you anywhere near the boys while you're acting this way. The boys are staying home tomorrow, and you better go to work or find something else to do, because I don't want you anywhere around here while I try to help them through this."

Before he gets a chance to respond, I walk out of the kitchen, leaving him slightly stunned as I walk over to the guest bedroom and knock on the door lightly. The sound of the sink running in the bathroom stops, and a few seconds later Ryan opens the door just a crack as he looks out at me, a look of pain and fear written all over his face.

"Come on."

He looks at me confused as I reach through the small crack in the door and pull him out into the hallway by the hand, keeping my hand wrapped firmly around his as we walk up the stairs and to the end of the hall where Seth's door is still closed. I knock on it a few times, listening to the silence from within, and I open the door slowly and peer around the corner at Seth, who's lying in the bed on his stomach with his head turned so he's facing away from the door.

I pull Ryan the rest of the way into the room and he stands in the middle of it, staring blankly at the sleeping figure on the bed as I walk back to the door and into the hallway, giving Ryan a reassuring smile before closing the door again and going into my own room, locking it so as to keep Sandy out.

-----

(Ryan's POV)

I look around the room, not really understanding why Kirsten brought me in here, but I decide I might as well take care of something else while I'm in here. I notice Seth move around a little on his bed and I walk over to the side of it, sitting down on the side he's facing and staring at the wall, waiting for him to quit pretending he's asleep.

"Welcome back."

His voice us quiet and hoarse, much like mine, and I nod my head as he sits up in the bed and leans his back against the headboard, moving over as he does so to allow me room next to him. We both sit in silence, neither feeling the need to talk, and there's like a silent understanding between the two of us that what we did and said is forgiven.

"So what happens now?"

"I don't know. I guess I should be making funeral arrangements, but I don't have any money to pay for it. I don't even know is she had a life insurance policy or anything."

"I'm sure my dad can find out, but it's not like you need to worry about it, my parents will take care of everything. I'm sure my mom can help you figure out the funeral arrangements, and if you need anything else, I'm here."

"You dad's not going to want to pay for my moms funeral. I don't event think he wants me here anymore, not after I disappeared last night. He's already grounded me for the next two weeks, and he's moving me from the pool house, into the guest bedroom downstairs."

"He's just angry right now, he'll calm down after my mom locks him out of the bedroom for a few days. Last time this happened my dad thought he would be able to tire her out, but instead he spent a week and a half sleeping on the couch, and another three weeks at the chiropractor. Don't worry man, he'll be good in a day or two."

I nod my head and the room falls into silence, both of us staring at the wall in front of us as we let our thoughts take over.

I've gone from being Seth's brother and the Cohen's new son that stays in the pool house, to being the kid that has way too much personal baggage that's staying in the guest bedroom. I'm not sure I want to be either of those things at the moment.


	9. Pushing Away

Disclaimer: the characters of this fic belong to the FOX television network.   
  
Is it a bad thing when it's been so long since you've updated your fanfic that you have to go back and read it to remember what exactly you were writing about?   
  
PS I didn't proof read. I figured you guys waited long enough.   
  
~*~*~   
  
The sound of the ministers voice seems to be carried away by the wind and the rain as we stand next to the sleek white casket that now contains Dawn's lifeless body. The hand on my shoulder squeezes gently as Kirsten holds an umbrella over me, keeping me from getting wet as the minister finishes talking and the area around us falls silent, the only noise coming from the sound of the rain hitting the casket.   
  
After a few seconds, I look up and notice everyone staring solemnly at the ground, obviously not wanting to bother me too much. The minister looks up and I catch his eye for a brief second, reaching my hand forward and shaking his as I think him and he turns to walk away. Kirsten, Sandy, and Seth are watching me carefully, and I ask them for a moment alone so that I can say goodbye to Dawn in private.   
  
Kirsten embraces me quickly and offers me the umbrella, but I reject it as Sandy and Seth both pat me on the back and the three of them begin walking in the direction of the car, stopping next to it and keeping their eyes trained on me to make sure I'm not going to flip out again.   
  
The rain is drenching my hair and suite as it cascades down my face, but it doesn't seem to phase me as I repeatedly ask mom why she left me like this. Why she wouldn't want to get clean so that we can at least try to be a family again. I feel the urge to scream at the top of my lungs rising in me, but I manage to suppress it as I look in the direction of the Cohen's who are huddled together under their umbrella's, still watching me.   
  
The thought of them all being together while I'm having to say goodbye to my only family seems to have more effect than I thought it could ever have, and I try to steady myself but fail miserably as I collapse to my knees next to the casket.   
  
The tears mix with the rain as hands quickly find their way to my back and waist, and I don't bother struggling as Kirsten wraps her arms around my waist and holds me close to her, whispering something repeatedly in my ear that I can't quite process in my mind at the moment.   
  
After a few seconds, I manage to recompose myself as I shakily stand up, pushing Kirsten's hand away as I turn quickly and walk in the direction of the car, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. After a brief hesitation, the other three people climb into the car as well and we begin driving out of the only cemetery in Chino.   
  
As we get closer to the exit of the cemetery I notice a group of people huddled under a small tent, standing in front of a black casket as a minister stands next to it with an umbrella over his head. I recognize a few of the kids from growing up here, and I catch a glimpse of the picture of the person that the funeral is for.   
  
"Stop the car."   
  
Kirsten, Sandy, and Seth all look at my slightly shocked, and I brush it off as the car rolls to a stop and I jump out, quickly walking over to the small funeral precession that's going on and standing behind one of the guys in the back. The Minster is just finishing up as I get over to the gravesite and all the people are beginning to scatter, going in their separate directions as they hurry to get out of the cold rain. I walk over to the familiar face in the front of the crowd to ask her what happened, but before I can, I feel someone's hand grab my arm and spin me around.   
  
At first I think it's Sandy or Kirsten wanting me to get back to the car, but I quickly realize that I'm wrong as I feel someone's hand connect roughly with my jaw, and I stumble back a few steps into a group of unsuspecting people.   
  
"Don't you think your families caused enough pain around here without you showing up to make a scene? Your mom deserved what she got, but my brother didn't, he didn't deserve to die because of that fucking alcoholic you call a mom."   
  
Without thinking first, I jump up and rush at the kid, knocking him to the ground as I hit him in the face. I feel angry hands pulling me off of him and pinning me to the ground, but I struggle to get away from them as I hear him screaming at me through the wall of people that have separated us.   
  
I can hear Sandy and Kirsten's voices coming from somewhere nearby, along with the sounds of sirens, and I struggle harder to get away form the strong arms. Within a matter of seconds, I can feel the wind being knocked out of me as I cop flips me onto my stomach and pulls my arms behind my back, cuffing them tightly so that I can't get out of them as he and another officer pick me up off the ground.   
  
I struggle to get away from the two men, my mind going in thousands of different places at once as Sandy yells at me to calm down, and Kirsten yells at him to do something.   
  
The two men don't bother being gentle as they throw me into the backseat of the police car, and I watch through the window as the brother of the kid continues to yell at me, blaming me for his brother's death.   
  
Sandy hurriedly walks over to the squad car and tells me not to say anything until he gets to the station, and I ignore him as I turn away from him and let my eyes fall to my lap, feeling emotionally and physically drained. There's plenty of tears still threatening to spill from before, but I continue to hide them as the cop gets in the front seat of the car and looks back at me angrily, calling me a fuck up under his breath before starting the car and driving out of the cemetery.   
  
----   
  
Why do I have a feeling that no matter what I do, this is the best my life's going to get? This is my future, a jail cell and bed that's been used by almost every resident in Chino. It's going to take days of scrubbing before I get the stench of piss off of me.   
  
"Atwood get up, your attorney's here to see you.'   
  
"I don't want any visitors, tell him to leave."   
  
"Alright, your loss, but you're going to be staying here until a judge sees you, and he's out of town for the weekend, so either you get released into your lawyers custody, or we book you for at least another three days. You sure this is what you want?"   
  
I turn over in the bed and look at the huge cop standing on the other side of the bars, thinking about what he said for only a split second before turning back towards the cement wall and closing my eyes. It's all like deja vue. I'm stuck in a jail cell, while Sandy's out there trying to help me out of the trouble I've gotten myself into.   
  
My whole body shivers as an unusual breeze goes throughout the jail, and I just realize as I pull my knees up to my chin that my clothes are still soaked from refusing Kirsten's umbrella earlier. I'm really beginning to regret that decision now, along with the one where I got out of the car and decided to show up to the funeral of the kid my mom killed.   
  
"Ryan, what's going on, they said you refused visitations."   
  
The unmistaken voice of Sandy Cohen is heard from behind me, and the irony of that statement hits me as I attempt to ignore the older man. When I don't answer him, I hear the cell door slide open, and the echo of footsteps comes up behind me, stopping just short of the bed.   
  
"Ryan, I know you can hear me, tell me what's going on, who was that kid you got in a fight with?"   
  
"When I told them that I didn't want to see anyone, I meant you."   
  
"Well, I managed to cut a deal with the officer so he'd let me see you. Whatever it is you're trying to deal with in that head of yours, I think we can figure it out together, but you're going to have trust me and allow me to take you out of here and back home."   
  
What's the point in all of this? To screw up again? To go back to the Cohen's and the pool house so I can just land myself back in here in a few months for something else stupid? I might as well just cut out the crap between and stay here, it's probably going to become my permanent residence in two years anyways when I become old enough to be considered an adult.   
  
"Ryan come on, talk to me. I can't tell what you're thinking."   
  
He puts his hand on my shoulder and turns me over so I'm on my back, his eyes staring down at my intently as he waits for me to respond. I can tell he's getting frustrated as he shifts around on the bed, trying to get comfortable when he realizes he could be here a while. He needs to give up, stop wasting his time with me, when will he ever get it.   
  
"I hate Newport. I hate living with people who think they can change me and make me a better person when we all know I'm a worthless piece of trash. You see this?" I say, pointing to the dark bruise that is slowly beginning to fade around my neck. "This is me, this is my life. Jail cells and bruises. You want to fix me, to make my life all better, but it too late. I'm never going to be like Seth, I'm always going to be this damaged, screwed up kid that everyone sees as the poor white kid from the wrong side of the tracks. You can't save me, Kirsten can't save me, and there's no fucking way that the Newport life is going to save me."   
  
Maybe now he gets it. Maybe now he'll see how much I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not, and just leave me to screw up my own life. After a few seconds of him just staring at me silently, he opens his mouth to say something but before he can get it out, the officer reappears at the cell door and tells Sandy that time is up.   
  
"Ryan you're just trying to push us away, but I'm not going to let that happen. I'm coming back up here on Monday to get you out, and then you, Kirsten and I are going to sit down and talk about this. I'm not going to -"   
  
"Times up Mr. Cohen, let's go."   
  
The officer cuts him off as he opens the cell door, and Sandy looks at me with a mixture of emotion as he steps out of the cell and follows the officer out of site.   
  
~*~*~   
  
Yeah, it sucked, what can I say though. 


	10. Surviving in a Crowd That Wants You Dead

Disclaimer: Anything and everything related to this fic belong to the FOX network.

Sorry about the very long wait for the update, but it's here now. ENJOY!

~*~*~

I'm really beginning to see what Trey's everyday life is like. Nothing to do but sit and stare, thinking about how fucked up your life has become and what, if anything, you could have done to change it. I'm only sixteen years old and I'm already sitting in jail, about to let my life rot away for what?

I look at my watch and notice it getting closer to ten, lights out time, and as I turn on my side and face the cement wall, I hear the cell door slide open. "Looks like you've got a new roommate Mr. Atwood, you two play nicely."

I turn back over just as the security guard locks the cell door and walks back down the corridor, leaving me alone with a kid that looks familiar, but whose face I can't exactly place at the moment. He stares at me blankly, and I mirror the image as he slowly walks over to the bunk beds and kneels down so he's only a few inches away from me.

I slowly sit up and back myself away from him as he continues to just stare, really beginning to freak me out to know ends as I slowly slide off the edge of the bed and away from him.

"Where are you trying to go Ryan? It's a ten foot by ten foot cell, not many places to hide."

The tone of his voice sends a racking shiver down my spine, and I watch him carefully as he straightens back up and takes a few more steps towards me, causing me to back up more until my back is flat against the bars on the door.

"Who the fuck are you?"

A low laugh escapes his lips and vibrates off the cement walls as my voice waivers, and my body freezes in its spot as he reaches behind his back and pulls something out of the waste band of his pants, holding it in front of him so the light can glint off the silver blade.

"I've never really liked you Atwood, you or your family. You all are the ultimate definition of white trash, and if it weren't for your piece of shit mom, my cousin would still be alive. You should have stayed at your fucking little Newport mansion and not bothered coming back here, because now I'm going to have to teach you a little lesson, one I'm sure you won't be forgetting soon."

It only takes a few seconds before I quickly turn around, and as I'm about to scream for help, I feel his hand cover my mouth tightly to prevent any noise from coming out as he struggles to hold my arms to my side. I feel tears pricking at the corner of my eyes as he glides the sharp blade gently down my neck, and I continue to struggle as I feel his breath against my ear.

"It's amazing what you can bring in here just by sliding a cop a few grams of coke."

He laughs quietly right next to my ear before quickly piercing my side with the knife, and a muffled scream escapes my mouth as the laugh gets louder and louder, covering up any noise I'm making as he uncovers my mouth and lets go of me, laughing loudly as I crumple to the ground in pain.

The thick, crimson blood seeps through the cracks between my fingers as I hold my side, and I can feel the blood draining into my lung as I struggle to breathe. I try to push myself away from him as he slowly walks near me, and I try to scream out again as his boot connects roughly with my already injured side. 

The sound of a cop yelling 'lights out' echoes throughout the jail as the rooms goes dark, and I can barely see the shadow of the person standing over me as he kneels over me and holds the knife against my throat. Before I get a chance to stop him, my eyes roll into the back of my head on their own accord, and I black out from the pain and blood loss.

------

The sound of a low beeping vibrates through the insides of my mind as I slowly open my eyes, closing them quickly as a light somewhere in the room shines brightly, causing me to become slightly blinded. I hear someone whisper nearby, and seconds later the glow that's coming from the other side of my eyelids disappears as someone turns off the light.

"Ryan, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes Hun."

The voice is unfamiliar, but I slowly re-open my eyes anyways as I look over at the middle aged lady standing next to me, wearing a doctors coat that says 'Dr. Simmons' on the right side. Standing next to her is Sandy and Kirsten, and I have a strong feeling that Seth isn't too far away.

"Ryan, how are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?"

The doctor's voice is quiet, almost too quiet, and I close my eyes as the room begins to spin around me. I struggle to take a deep breath, inhaling the oxygen from the oxygen mask covering my face as I do so, and the doctor quietly tells me to relax.

There's a searing pain coming from my side and stomach, and I can feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I grab my side and cry out in pain. The images of what happened back at the jail flash in my head, and I feel my body beginning to shake slightly as the image of the kid standing over me with the night burns itself into my head.

"Ryan honey, I need you to try and calm down. You just got out of surgery a few hours ago, and you need to relax so you don't pull out the stitches in your side."

I try to relax to the best of my ability as the three adults stand around me, and after a few moments I allow my eyes to open a slit as I look up at Kirsten and Sandy, allowing Kirsten to gently hold my hand as she leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

"You're going to be okay now, they're going to take very good care of you here. Is there anything you want Sandy or I to get you, something from home or the gift shop maybe?"

The word home seems so foreign, something that should be said in relation to me. I don't think I've ever considered anywhere I've ever lived to be a home, just a temporary place for room and board.

Kirsten subconsciously begins to rub small circles with her thumb into my hand that she's holding, and my eyelids begin to get heavy again as I nod my head left and right to her question and close my eyes again, listening as the doctor tells Kirsten and Sandy that it's the pain medication that's making me go in and out of it.

I try to open my eyes again to ask what happened to the other kid who did this to me, but my mind seems to have plans of it's own as it slowly begins to get hazy, and I grasp Kirsten's hand as I slowly slip back into the realm of unconsciousness again.

~*~*~

Like it, hate it, lemme know. You know where the review button is.


	11. Blood Stains

Disclaimer: The characters belong to fox.

I didn't get a chance to proof this chapter, so you might find a couple of errors in it. Enjoy!

~*~*~

I can feel someone's presence in the room before I even open my eyes, and I wince in pain as I try to turn on my side away from them, not wanting to see anyone at the moment.

"Oh no you don't, you're just going to hurt yourself more if you lay on your side."

I feel Kirsten's hand on my arm as she forces me back onto my back, and I slowly open my eyes as she grabs my hand and looks down at me, a relieved look on her face.

"How are you feeling honey? You've been out for quite a while now, I was wondering if you ever planned on waking up."

I reach my hand up to take the oxygen mask off my face, but she grabs my wrist and stops me. Her hands are cold around my wrist, and she quickly apologizes before bringing my hand back down to my lap and letting go of it.

"You've had a few visitors while you were asleep. Summer and Anna came by with Seth, but Sandy and I thought it would be best that you recover a little more before we allow there to be any wild parties with girls and alcohol in here."

She offers a small smile after her attempt with humor, and I weakly return the smile as I try to focus my mind away from the sharp pain that's starting at my side and surging through the rest of my body. I feel like they removed my lung as my breathing comes out in short, labored gasps.

"I know it's tough to breathe, but the doctor said it should get a little better as your lung starts healing, and the bruising in your ribs go down.

"What… happened?"

It's close to impossible to talk without having to close my eyes and fight back the tears, and Kirsten's grip on my hand tightens as she sets on the edge of the bed and kisses my forehead.

"The guard walked in just in time to see the guy sitting over you with a knife. He doesn't know what happened before that, but he knows that you were lying unconscious it a pool of blood, and that the kid was never supposed to be put in there with you. Apparently someone already informed the guard of that information before hand, he just didn't feel the need to follow it. Sandy's talking to the judge right now about it, so all you need to do is lay here and relax so you can recover."

I feel myself getting light headed just from trying to process all her words, and she stares at me until I nod my head in understanding.

Kirsten and I turn our heads just as the doctor walks in the room, and a small smile spreads across her face when she sees me awake. I weakly raise my hand a little, trying to wave at her as she says good morning, and she lets a low laugh escape her lips as I drop my heavy hand back into my lap where Kirsten had placed it before.

"You look so sweet when you're sleeping, but every once in a while we like to see those baby blues looking back at us. You shouldn't try to hide them so much. Now if you don't mind, we need to check those stitches and see how you're side's doing."

I don't even attempt to process her words as she talks quickly and walks over to the bed, helping m sit up as she pulls the hospital gown off my arms and stops just above my waist.

As I'm about to look down at the damage that's been done to me, Kirsten gently grabs my chin and turns my head towards her, squeezing my hand at the same time.

I let out a strangled cry as the doctor pulls off the bandages, and I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to focus on the sound of Kirsten's soothing voice as she tells me that everything's going to be okay.

I wince in pain every time the doctor lightly touches the area to clean it, and Kirsten tries to stop me as I push her hand away from my chin and look at my side. The doctor jumps slightly as I slap her and away from my side, and I wish more than anything that I could just be dead right now instead of having to endure this physical and emotional pain.

"Ryan you need to calm down so I can clean it. I'm sure the last thing you want right now is to get an infection and have to stay in here longer than you have to."

She tries to inch her way back towards me, but I move away from her, causing Kirsten to stand up off the edge of the bed. Before either women can stop me, I pull the oxygen mask off and try to get up, fighting my way for the bathroom as the try to stop me.

The doctor pushes the emergency call button as she holds my arm, and I feel the hot tears burning down my cheeks as Kirsten holds my other arm and tries to keep me from getting up.

"Let me go… I wanna go."

My words come out strangled and kind of ruff, but they go unheard as an older man walks into the room with a needle in his hand. A jolt of fear goes throughout my body, and I unconsciously push Kirsten away from me, causing her to stumble back a few feet in shock.

The doctor loosens her grip on my arm in shock, and I take my chance to run past them man and run into the bathroom, almost collapsing on the floor as I lock the door.

"Ryan, open the door please. No one's trying to hurt you, we're just trying to help you get better."

I can barely hear Kirsten's voice over the sound of my breathing, and it feels like my lungs are on fire as I grip my side and listen to my breath come out in short loud gasps.

I sit on the cold tile with my knees pulled to my chest as the voices on the other side of the door plead with me to come out, and I wish they would all jut go away and leave me alone.

I look around the bathroom for some sort of escape, and I use the counter to pull myself up as I pull my hospital gown back up and walk over to where the shower is, turning the hot water on all the way and stepping into the tub.

I jump slightly as the cold water hits my body, but as it slowly becomes warm, I rest my back against the wall and slide down so my knees are painfully close to my chest.

The spray of the water seems to work as it drowns out the voices outside, but I feel panic and fear rising in me as I look down at the pink tinted water that's swirling down the drain.


	12. Blinding Darkness

"Ryan, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

The voice is distant, like the person is standing miles away, and I struggle to find the source of it as I slowly walk around the darkness. If I go straight, the voice seems to fade, but if I turn slightly, it seems that the voice is all around me, like it's consuming me.

"Ryan honey, I need you to open your eyes for me to let me know that you're okay."

I turn sharply to the left as the voice speaks up again, but it fades quickly and I'm lost again. I want to give up, I want the pain to just go away and give up, but the voices won't let me. They won't let me slip away from them, out of their grasps.

"I don't think this is normal Sandy, he's been unconscious for two days. His eyelids flutter like he's trying to wake up, but he never does. I'm really worried."

"The doctor said his body's going through shock, trying to adjust and fight off any infection. I'm sure the doctor would tell us if there were anything seriously wrong with him. Just give him a little bit more time."

The voices are familiar, like I've heard them before, but they're all still so distant, out of reach. No matter how much I try to get to them, they keep distancing themselves from me, pulling back so that I'm constantly out of arms reach of them.

"I'm going to get the doctor, I just don't think this is normal."

"Kirsten…"

There's a soft clicking noise, like the sound of a door quietly closing, and then the voices are gone. I plead with them to come back, to help me find my way out of the darkness, but all I hear is the quiet sound of air being taken in and pushed out like someone's standing over me, breathing heavily.

I push everything out of my mind and try to focus on that sound, trying to follow it out of the darkness, and just as I feel that I've got it in my grasp, I hear faint sounds and footsteps again, approaching me at a seemingly rapid speed but not quite coming close enough for me to reach out to.

"Mrs. Cohen, I'm sure Ryan will wake up when he's ready. If you've seen his eyelids flutter, then that's definitely a good sign. He's trying to find his way out, his way back to you. Just keep talking to him, let him know that everything's going to be okay, that he's going to be safe. If he believes he's going to be safe when he opens his eyes, then he should be able to come to us a little easier."

Everything goes silent for a moment, and I feel something cold and round press against my chest. It disappears for a brief second before moving over to my side, and I feel my fingers twitch from the pain as it shoots throughout my body.

"His breathing sounds seem to be steadying out, returning to normal, which is a very good sign. The wound is healing pretty quickly, and if he's awake by then, I'll consider letting him go in a few days. Am I safe to assume that he will be retuning home, instead of a cold jail cell?"

The last three words seem to trigger something in my mind, and the image of someone standing over me flashes in front of my eyes and my body jerks as I try to get away from it.

"Ryan, calm down, everything's going to be okay. You're in a safe place, no one can hurt you here."

I relinquish my fight to get nearer to the voices and try to push them away as a plethora of horrible images plagues my mind, and my body begins to shake ever so slightly as a few tears escape the corners of my eyes.

I want to scream, to tell them to go away, but nothing but air comes out of my mouth as I open and close it again, trying to find the words to make them go away.

I feel hands on my skin, on my face, and I start to quiver as my mind becomes paralyzed with fear and my eyes shoot open as I'm blinded by a bright light.

My lungs are screaming for air as they burn painfully, and I gasp loudly as I finally get enough strength to push the prying hands away as I sit up and grip my chest, like it's going to help the air enter my lungs any faster.

Something covers my mouth, sending short puffs of air into my lungs, and I greedily inhale it as I feel hands on my back, remaining there even when I try to push them away.

My body suddenly feels weak, like it's weightless, and trying to fight with the prying hands seems to become an impossible task as arms wrap around me and I'm pulled against someone's body.

As my breathing begins to smooth out again, I try to focus my eyes on my surroundings as I see the source of the voices standing around me with worried expressions on each of their faces. I don't want to go back to the darkness, I don't want to be kept at arms length from the source of the voices anymore.

I shakily look up at the person holding me, and Kirsten gives me a reassuring smile as she whispers something quietly to me and begins to rock me back and forth like a small child who just woke up from a bad nightmare.

Sandy's sitting next to Kirsten on the edge of the bed, grasping one of my hands tightly, and on the other side of them the doctor's got her eyes fixed on the object in her hands as she writes something on the clipboard.

My eyes become heavy with sleep as I look between the three of them, but I struggle to keep them open in fear that I will get lost in the darkness again. I don't think I ever want to close my eyes again, other than a quick blink.

"Ryan, are you feeling better? Can you breathe okay now?"

It takes a minute for the doctor's words to register in my mind, and as they do, I slowly nod my head up and down, wincing as a sharp pain surges through my aching body.

"I want you to really take it easy for the next couple of days, don't try to make any sudden movement or push your body to the limit. You just had a mild panic attack, and I just want to make sure it's the last one.."

The doctor smiles at me reassuringly, but it doesn't make any of the pain go away as I push myself further into Kirsten's grasp, finally becoming tired of running, from trying to escape everything when nothing seems to be going right.

Kirsten seems pleased at my actions and tightens her arms around me, being careful of my side as she does so and kisses the top of my head. The doctor gives me a quick look over before telling me to get some rest, and Sandy and Kirsten thank her as she gives me another reassuring grin and leaves the room. The Cohen's sit quietly with me, and I let my gaze fall onto random spot in the room as I attempt to stay awake.


	13. Never Leaving

Disclaimer: Fox owns the O.C., I'm merely distorting the story line to fit my twisted thoughts.

I'm so sorry for kind of abandoning this fic. I had severe writer's block, and then it just kinda faded to the back of my mind (the fic), but I promise it will pick up now. I have a few ideas for at least the next few chapters, and I'll probably start with the next chapter after I type this other update I have written for one of my other fics.

I didn't proof this, as usual, so you'll probably find plenty of mistakes. ENJOY!

--------

"Come on man, quicken your pace we're going to be late."

Seth's obnoxious attitude continues to make me nauseous as I hold onto my side, fearing that I'll end up hurting myself once again as I slowly walk behind Seth. I've barely been out of the hospital for two weeks and he's got me running around, pretending like nothing ever happened. I guess this is better than going back to a cold jail cell though where the threat of death always lingers over me, not for who I am or what I've done, but because of the person I came from. Sometimes I wonder why I bother caring about her, why I waste all of my strength and energy trying to figure out what I ever did so wrong to make her hate me so much as to abandon me the way she did after all I've done for her.

As my thoughts begin to wonder down the same path they have so many times before, I see a stone bench a few feet away, begging me to claim it so that my stitches wont bust from too much strenuous activity so soon in this game of life. Seth continues to skateboard on without me, not noticing that I have stopped until he reaches the end of the pier and turns around, staring at me slightly worried as I lean forward so that my elbows are resting on my knees and my fingers are laced behind my neck while my head is down.

The same thoughts seem to constantly plague my mind, no matter where I am, and I just can't seem to get them to stop and leave me alone. I still feel like a plague on this town, a disease that won't go away, but it's not something I can share with the Cohen's, or anyone else for that matter. I've done my best to rebuild the façade I had before, make it so they think I'm perfectly fine with no negative thoughts going on in my head, but at times they seem to look right past it. They know I'm keeping things in, trying to deal with them on my own, and I can tell by the expression in their eyes that they know I'm failing miserably at it.

"Are you okay Ryan, you're starting to look a little pale again. Maybe I should call mom or dad to come pick us up. We can go to the crab shack some other time."

I wave my hand at Seth, dismissing his comment as he stands over me, and I take in a deep breath before carefully pushing myself back onto my feet, trying to reassure Seth that I'm okay although we both know I'm really not.

"It's cool, I just needed a little breather. Let's go."

The look in his eyes seem to flash 'Liar' in big letters at me, but I ignore it as I walk past him and start walking in the direction of the restaurant, still unsure if I can keep any solid food in my stomach at the moment; the task his become seemingly impossible since I was almost gutted in Chino. The police decided it might be best in their situation to drop any and all charges against me, considering the fact that Sandy threatened to sue the city for allowing what happened to happen.

"Ryan man, seriously, at least let me call my parents and have them drive us the rest of the way. They're going to kill me if you get hurt anymore because of me."

Seth's pleading goes unheard as I continue walking in the direction of the crab shack, but I stop short when I see the familiar Range Rover pull up into a close by parking lot and Kirsten steps out, a slightly annoyed and angry look on her face as she starts walking towards me.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen her look that pissed. I wonder what happened."

"I have a feeling I might know."

Seth looks at me confused, and just as I open my mouth to explain, Kirsten cuts me off and stands in front of us, glaring between the two of us.

"I turn my back for one second, one second and you vanish into thin air. You know the doctor said you need to stay put and rest until she gives you a good bill of health. If you needed to go somewhere that badly, you could have simply asked me and I would have taken you. Where are you two off to anyways?"

I open my mouth again to speak, but nothing seems to come out except the breath I began holding the second she started talking. Seth looks at me expectantly from my side, his eyebrows knitted in confusion when I don't say anything, and Kirsten frustrated turns to her son in an attempt to get an answer.

"It's no big deal mom, we were just going to the Crab Shack for some lunch. We should have told you, I admit it, but all we do all day is sit in the house, trying to keep from dying from boredom. Besides, Ryan's never really going to get his strength back just sitting around like a couch potato."

I feel a wave of nausea pass over me as Kirsten begins scolding her son, and I grip my side as my vision becomes slightly distorted and blurry. There's another bench nearby, and as the two begin arguing with each other, I stumble over to it and sit down, squeezing my eyes closed as the pain begins to burn in my side.

"Ryan honey, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

She kneels down in front of me, grabbing my chin and trying to get me to look at her, and I push her away before I grab my stomach and throw up on the ground in front of me, keeping my eyes closed so that I don't have to see what little food I had in my stomach splattered all over the cement.

"Come on, I'm taking you to the doctor. This is exactly why I didn't want you leaving the house."

Kirsten grabs my arm and helps me stand up as I wipe my mouth off, and I put half my weight against the woman while trying to convince her that I don't need to see the doctor. As she tries to help me into the car, I stop at the door and lean against it, holding myself up against it weakly.

"Ryan, quit messing around, we need to get you checked out. You've probably pulled some stitches or something."

"I don't want to go to the doctor. Just take my back to the pool house, I'll be okay. I just need to lay down and catch my breath."

She nods her head, telling me no, and she looks at me angrily as I stay in my spot against the door so that she can't open it.

"Ryan Atwood, get into the car right now, you don't have a say in this. If you wouldn't have got in a stupid fight at the cemetery, we wouldn't be in this position. All we ever do is try to help you, and you keep pushing us away, so get into the damn car right this minute before I have to force you into it."

Everything around me seems to stop as Kirsten yells, something I've never really heard her do before, and Seth seems just as taken back as she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, rubbing her hands over her face in an attempt to calm herself.

Seth looks over at me, a shocked look on his face, and I quickly look away as I pull myself away from the car door and open it, climbing in without saying a word. I feel tears stinging at the corner of my eyes as Kirsten and Seth stand outside looking at me, and I stare down at my hands in my lap, wishing I could just get back to the pool house so I can lock myself in.

After a few minutes, the Cohen's take their place in the car and Kirsten quietly starts it up, not saying anything as she pulls onto the road and starts driving in the direction of the house instead of the doctor. When we pull up into the driveway next to Sandy's car, Seth quickly jumps out, leaving Kirsten and I in a very unsettling silence.

"Ryan-"

Before she can get any further than my name, I open the car door and quickly get out, ignoring the pain in my side as I run to the pool house and slam the door closed behind me. I slow my pace as I walk to the bathroom, and as soon as I get in, I lock the door and slam my back against it, sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest.

I never thought I would ever be scared of Kirsten, I always thought she'd be like the mother I always wanted. She deserves to be congratulated though, because in that split second that she yelled at me, I felt like I was back in Chino at home, about to get the shit beat out of me. For that split second, Dawn was still alive and standing right in front of me.

-------

I was going to end the fic in this chapter, but I decided to pull it out a little further, conflict Ryan's life a little more since we have to endure with no O.C. for the rest of the summer.

More Soon. Don't forget to review.


	14. Moving Past

I had all these ideas in my head about this chapter, pretty good ones I think, but one night of drunken-ness seems to have made all those ideas disappear. I keep seeing an ending in the very close future for this fic, but everyone keeps telling me to continue it, so I'll have to see what I can do. I might have to consider finishing this one off and maybe starting a new one. Ideas are always welcome.

PS: thanks to everyone who reviewed…

muchtvs: In the forty something fics that I've written, I think only like, two are actually not in the first person. I find it easier to write in a characters POV.

TeacherTam: I agree with you. I'm kind of annoyed about how they handled his past and trust issues. The farthest I saw it actually go is with the whole Oliver thing. It also kind of throws me off though that sometimes they seem to bounce from one thing to another, without actually making it flow a little smoother. It's like every new episode is a new and completely different topic. They need to mix in some things from prior episodes and stuff like that. Anyways though, that's all just my opinion, I don't even know if it made sense. Anything makes sense when you're drunk.

All the other reviewers: Thanks. This fic seems to be more popular now than it was before it was put on hiatus.

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I close my eyes, trying to fight against the images from my past, trying to keep them at bay, but it doesn't seem to work any longer as my mind begins to play tricks on me. I open my eyes slowly, looking through the small slits before completely opening them and looking at the run down bathroom in front of me. The shower curtain is missing, and the stench of old wet clothes fills my nostrils as I feel my body beginning to shake.

The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and I cautiously pull my body away from the door, gripping the edge of the counter and using it as leverage as I pull myself up into a standing position, my hand immediately finding it's way to my side as pain seeps through it.

I feel my palm become slick with liquid, and I look down horrified at the crimson stain covering my hand, the liquid thick and continuous as tears find their way to my eyes. I manage to keep myself steady as I use the back of my dry hand to wipe the steady tears from my face, and I'm slightly startled as the image of my nine year old self stares back at me, my hair disheveled and all over the place, like I had just felt the wrath of one of mom's boyfriends.

The pain radiating from my side seems to confirm the thought, but I struggle to ignore it as I slowly reach my hand in front of me, tracing my grown fingers over the image of the young boy, face streaked with tears and a tired, pained look in his eyes.

I take my gaze away from the image for a split second, staring at my hand like it's a foreign object, and I slam my back against the wall behind me startled as the image of my mother appears in the mirror, her eyes bloodshot and her nose all messed up from all the drugs she's inhaled. She stares intently at me, telling me to come closer to her, and I nod my head furiously to the left and right, trying to push myself as far into the wall as I possibly can.

"Ryan, come on, come to me. You know you want to come to your mother, I've got a treat for you."

She points her finger at me before turning her palm up and curling her finger in, trying to get my closer to her, but I resist. I can see her features quickly becoming angry, and I jump and scream simultaneously as I hear a loud bang come from the bathroom door, catching me off guard and causing me to back into the small space between the toilet and the bathtub. This is the same place I always used to hide when she had one of her boyfriends over, although it didn't matter where I was, they always found a way to attack me, bruise my fragile body and leave me broken.

"Ryan, if you don't open the door, I'm going to have to force my way in there. Just open it up and let me know you're okay."

My mind is pulled in all different directions as I attempt to place the voice, and I push myself further into my spot between the two hard objects as the sound of a key sliding into the door fills the room, echoing off the walls before the door slowly creaks open and a familiar face looks in, their expressions softening as they stare at me.

"Ryan, come on out of here, we need to talk."

His voice is gentle yet firm, and I reluctantly remove myself from the spot on the floor, my eyes avoiding the mirror as Sandy closes the bathroom door once I've stepped out of it, leaving the memory of my past slowly trying to catch back up to me, find my location again so it can eat away at my mind.

Sandy gestures towards one of the two chairs in the room, and I slowly lower myself onto the chairs cushion, my hand on my side so as to hide the blood that's coming from my once closed stitches.

"Kirsten told me what happened at the pier earlier. She didn't mean to scare you, she was just trying to get her point across that all we want is for you to be safe. You're overreacting to all of this, you know we wouldn't hurt you. Ryan, look at me."

My eyes stay focused on the ground, his words not really making their way into my conscious mind, and he stands up and begins pacing around the room, sighing heavily in frustration.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, get cleaned up and come in the house. We'll discuss the rest of this later."

He walks out of the pool house, trying to control his anger, and I stare at the closed door that he went through just seconds before. I can tell he wants to yell at me, he's got all of this anger building up inside towards me and my actions, and I don't want to be here when his anger decides to rear it's ugly head.

I wince painfully as I pull myself out of the chair, and I slowly make my way back over to the bathroom door, opening it once again and avoiding the mirror as I lean down and open the cabinet door that's under the sink, pulling out the first aid kit and straightening back up. I seem to move faster than my body would like at the moment, and a wave of nausea passes over me, causing me to grasp onto the countertop tightly. My eyes unwillingly make their way up to my reflection, and I stare at my facial features, my eyes encircled by dark circles and my skin becoming a deathly pale color.

After regaining a slight bit more of my strength back, I turn to leave the bathroom and walk back into the main part of the pool house, walking over to the bed and sitting on it with the first aid kit sitting next to me. Luckily the curtains on all the windows are closed as I painfully pull my shirt over my head, there's a massive blood stain on the white t-shirt that, given a few more seconds to soak up the blood,

Sandy definitely would have noticed.

I don't bother trying to clean the wound as it continues to ooze the crimson liquid, I simply put some gauze over it, using surgical tape to hold it firm in place before grabbing a shirt off the top of the stack of laundry that's sitting neatly made on the end of my bed where Kirsten set it before.

After slowly and painfully getting my shirt all the way over my torso, I pick up the bloody shirt that's laying on the floor and set it on my leg, grabbing a bottle of water from the side of my bed and pouring it over my hand, using the shirt to scrub some of the blood off. My hand seems to have become stained red, and I throw down the shirt in frustration, feeling another set of fresh tears streaming down my cheeks.

Why can't they see how worthless I am? I'm not worth their time, their money, all I ever do is fuck up and they know it. They think they can change that about me, make me a better person, but it will never happen. My dad is a fuck up, my brother's a fuck up, and it's only natural that I become one just as well.

What will it take for them to understand, I don't need their help. I did just fine back in Chino when my mom would disappear for weeks on end, off somewhere trying to feed her drug and alcohol habits. Of course I didn't live a luxurious lifestyle during the times that she was gone, but I lived comfortably, free of the beatings, free of… some of the other things her boyfriends did to me when they were around. I don't need to be rich, I don't need the Newport lifestyle to keep me going, I seem to be rather content far away from this place. If they would just understand that I could never be like them, I'll never be the perfect little son that Seth is who's always willing to take their money and seems to do nothing but please them. That's, of course, until I came here. Since, it's been nothing but a string of fights, and constant trouble that has in one way or the other linked itself back to me. And although they tell me that it wasn't my fault, I know deep down they're blaming me, blaming me for everything bad that's ever happened in their lives since I've gotten here. I'm used to it though, I'm used to taking the blame and receiving the punishment, and somehow, being here and getting none of that, it's not something my body seems used to. It's like I've lived with the beatings for so long, my body seems to be struggling without it, hence the constant fights.

I push my thoughts aside when I hear a light knock on one of the pool house doors, and the person let's themselves in when I don't answer, simply keep my eyes focused in front of me. They don't say anything, just move next to me and sit on the bed, and manage to push the bloodied shirt under the bed with my foot without them looking.

"Dad told me to come out here and get you, told me not to come back inside unless you're with me."

I mumble something incoherently under my breath as I weakly stand up, and I can feel him watching me as I go to a corner of the room, kneeling down and looking through a pile of stuff, getting angry when I can't find my backpack.

"Where the fuck is it?" I turn around quickly, causing Seth to jump, and he stands up as he slowly walks to me.

"They thought it might deter you from running if you didn't have it. I think they put it up in their room, hidden it in their closet or something."

"They have no fucking right taking my stuff. Go get it for me."

Seth nods his head, taking a few steps away from me as I straighten up and walk towards him. I can see a spark of fear hiding deep in his eyes, and I clench my hands at my sides as he refuses my demand.

"You fucking people can't keep me here anymore, I can't stay in this damn town any longer without fucking losing my mind. If you won't get the damn thing, than I will."

Seth looks at me startled, my outburst showing a side of me that no one in Newport has seen, and the adrenaline rush that I'm having right now seems to make the pain dissipate as I brush past the younger man and storm out of the pool house, feeling him hot on my trail as I swing open the back door of the main house and listen to it slam against the wall behind it.

Sandy quickly runs in front of me, trying to stop my from going somewhere that he doesn't even know of, and Kirsten looks at Seth questioningly.

"Get your hands off me."

Sandy doesn't back down, just keeps his hands on my chest, and I turn around, trying to leave the kitchen through the living room but being stopped by Sandy once again. My strength seems to have become completely shot, and Sandy knows it as he attempts to push me back the few steps into the kitchen, informing me that I'm not going anywhere.

"Ryan, why won't you just talk to us? Tell us what's going on so we can help you?"

"You're the problem, all of you. Somehow you got it stuck in your head that I'm going to miraculously change into the perfect person you want, and I'm sick of it. You're so stuck on trying to make me the person you've become, and you can't fucking see that it's never going to happen. The only future I have is in a five by five cell. And you think you're not like Dawn, Kirsten, but you need a reality check. Anytime anything bad starts happening, you automatically go to the liquor cabinet. You may not be an alcoholic like she is, but it's got to start somewhere."

"Don't you dare talk to my wife like that."

Sandy raises his voice above my level and I look back at him, anger burning furiously in his eyes. I try to push my way past him, try to get away from his stare, but he only forces me back. I can feel Seth's presence right behind me as I stand mere inches from him, and the walls feel like they're closing in on me. Everyone's turning against me, they're trying to break me down just like Dawn used to do, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let that happen again.

Once again I try to push my way past Sandy and out of the room, and when he tries to push me back again, I use what little strength I have left in my battered body to take a swing at him, the sound of my fist connecting with his jaw echoing through the room. He grabs the assaulted part of his face, looking at me horrified, and I take this chance of vulnerability as I push past him and out of the kitchen, leaving the front door open behind me as I walk to the end of the drive way.

The adrenaline is still rushing through my body, but the pain is starting to make itself know as I look to my left and right, trying to think of what to do now. I've now officially destroyed any chance I ever had at having anything close to resembling a normal life, and I look back at the Cohen's house for a split second, not really surprised that no one's come out to look for my yet.

After another second of looking back down the road, I let one of my hands rest on my side, trying to ease the still flowing blood and pain as I turn to my left and start walking, unsure of where the road is going to take me but sure that it most likely won't get any better.

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Next chapter coming soon. Probably next weekend. Until then, amuse me and urselves by clicking the feedback button.


	15. Call it Quits

"But if Ryan ever really spoke, his rage might burn down the world." www.villagevoice.com

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Newport seems quiet around me, like for once everything is calm and people are starting to get along, but I don't think that will ever be the case. This one town is like the mass representative of my life. Lies, deceit, alcohol the only thing that's really different is that this town has money, something I've had to learn to live without. Even when I did come to Newport and Seth tried to convince me that money is what parents are for, I still couldn't take the Cohen's money without feeling guilty, or like a burden to them.

The silence seems to continue around me though as I walk along the beach, even the sound of the waves crashing against the large rocks in front of me seeming distant and out of reach. My vision is becoming off as well, everything's becoming blurry like I'm looking through a wall of water, but I think that all just might be from the blood loss that I've lost over the past hour of leaving the Cohen's home.

I think it took me twenty minutes or so just to get to the end of their street, and no one came out to stop me, so I know that everything I ever had in Newport is gone. Even what little stuff I brought with me from Chino is still back in the pool house, and I know I can't go back for it, not unless I want to be arrested for assault on my lawyer.

My legs are becoming weak under me as I keep my hand pressed to my side, and I finally give up on walking while I slowly allow my body to collapse to the soft ground below me. The moon can be seen above the ocean, and it's a clear night unlike any other back in Chino. The wind coming up off the ocean lightly blows the sand around on the beach, and I slowly lean back until I'm lying on the sand, my hands draped over my stomach with one of them covering my injured side.

There's tears crawling to the corner of my eyes as I stare up blankly, trying to remember what my life was like when I was younger, before my dad left and before my parent's started turning to alcohol to solve their problems. I was too young when I became an adult, when my dad was taken to jail and I had to start taking care of my mom who quickly turned to drugs and liquor to cope.

The Cohen's have tried to turn back the clock, make me back to a kid who needs to loosen up and leave in the now, while he's still young. They think it's easy going from an independent person who's had to learn to keep himself alive without the help of others, to a teenager who's dependent on people he hasn't even know for a year.

The night sky above me becomes blocked as someone's face appears in front of me, and I don't even blink when I hear Jimmy Cooper saying my name, trying to get me to open my attention to him. His hands feel cold against my neck as he shoves his fingers against it, trying to find my pulse, and I continue to lay still as he begins to lightly shake my body, repeatedly trying to get me to respond to him.

"Ryan… Ryan come on, talk to me."

His voice is panic stricken and filled with worry, and it becomes even more so as my eyes begin to slide close against my own will, the effects of the blood loss finally beginning to get to me as my mind becomes foggy and distorted.

"Don't Ryan, you need to open your eyes for me… I'm going to get you to a doctor, but you need to stay with me."

"N-no doctors. No hospitals."

I open my eyes a small slit, trying to focus on the now blurry face in front of me, and Jimmy puts his hands under my armpits, pulling me into a sitting position so that the weight of my body is fully against his.

"Come on Ryan, you've got to help me out a little. We need to get you some help."

"No hospitals."

My voice is firm despite how weak I am, and Jimmy quietly agrees, seeing the look in my eyes that says I'm not going anywhere unless I approve.

"No hospitals, at least let me take you home."

I close my eyes tightly at the words, them hitting me like a blow to the chest, and Jimmy's movements stop.

"Ryan, come on man, you've got to keep your eyes open. I need you to help me get to the car. It's just a little ways away, we'll be there in no time…Ryan… Ryan talk to me."

"I have no home."

My words are so quiet that I don't even hear them, and I shakily raise my hand to my face, trying to wipe the few escaped tears from my face but being too weak as my hand drops back down to my side. Jimmy's only still for a few more seconds, like he managed to hear what I said, and I'm caught off guard when he puts his arm under my knees, struggling with my weight as he manages to pick me up.

I struggle at first, trying to get him to put me down, but I quickly go limp in his arms when I realize that there's no fighting now, my body's beginning to give up and I can't stop it. Maybe this is a good thing, maybe it's time I leave all the pain and suffering behind. What would it really matter anyways, what have I really got to lose now?

After a few minutes of stumbling through the sand, Jimmy finally reaches his car and leans me against the back door, keeping one hand pushed against my chest to keep me from falling as he opens the passenger door. I feel like I've lost all control of my body, and my eyes seem to have become permanently closed. I mumble something lowly, the words to incoherent for either Jimmy or even I to understand, and my body is moved limply into the passenger seat before the silent clicking of the seat belt is heard.

I wince at the sound of the door beside me closing, and I brace myself for a repeat of the sound when Jimmy closes his door. Bracing myself doesn't seem to prepare me for what's next though as I feel a hand slip into mine, and Jimmy squeezes it tightly as the engine starts up.

"I know you don't like hospitals kid, but at this point, I don't think we've got a choice."

I can feel the car going in reverse as he talks, and I try to squeeze his hand back, not knowing why exactly but doing it nonetheless. I give up after strained effort, and as he switches the car to drive, my head that was resting against the headrest before softly thuds against the side window, the cold from the glass causing me to squeeze my eyes closed a little tighter, trying to suppress the oncoming headache.

I hear the faint sound of Jimmy talking to someone, presumably on his cell phone, and I strain to hear him as he gives someone my description, telling them that we're only five minutes away. A sudden chill manages to escape into my body, and I involuntarily shudder, not bothering to fight with the darkness that consumes as I pass out.

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"Ryan… Ryan honey, come to me."

I open my eyes a little too fast and shut them quickly as a blinding light encircles me. After a moment of allowing my pupils to adjust, I slowly reopen my eyes and look in front of me, trying to find the voice that seems to echo throughout the wind blowing on the beach.

"Ryan, it's time to come back to me. We can be a family again, we don't have to worry about all that other stuff like before, just come to me."

I feel my chest tighten when I recognize the voice, and I turn around quickly, feeling my heart jump into my throat as she stands in front of me. She's got a smile plastered across her face, something that I haven't seen since I was three or four, and I stand frozen as she walks towards me, her arms open wide.

The second she envelops me in her arms, my legs give out from under me and I collapse into her, feeling her slowly kneel down as my knees come in contact with the sand.

This isn't happening, I know this isn't happening. It's a bad dream, this all is a really bad dream. I feel a tightening in my chest, choking off my air supply, and I try to pull away from her arms without any success.

"We'll be a family again. Me and you kid, now we can be together forever. I knew you would find your way back to me."

I shake my head furiously, writhing in her grasp helplessly while trying to get air in my now burning lungs. This isn't how it was supposed to be, she isn't supposed to be here waiting for me. Death is supposed to be my only escape, my only release for all the pain she put me through, now I don't even have that.

I close my eyes tightly and struggle against her with all my strength, her grasp finally loosening after a few moments until I frantically push myself away from her, backing away until I feel my back hit something hard and I open my eyes, my eyes becoming blurred with tears as a group of nurses and doctors look down at me frantically, the Cohen's and Mr. Cooper standing behind them with the same look on their faces.

There's a needle sticking out of my wrist as I sit in the corner of the trauma room, and a doctor grabs my wrist, holding it firmly as I try to pull it out.

"Ryan, I need you to calm down. We're only trying to help you."

A nurse behind the doctor walks up with one hand behind her back, and I frantically kick and try to push the doctor away as he struggles to keep me still, allowing the nurse to grab my arm and inject me with the needle she was hiding behind her back. I see Kirsten gasp in shock when I finally manage to get my wrist free from the doctor and pull the I.V. needle out of my arm, causing a small bead of blood to appear on the surface of my skin.

I'm tired of this, tired of fighting for nothing; what exactly am I fighting for anymore? My life, my happiness, my family? This is where I want it to end, where I want to rid myself of everything, but I can't die, she'll be waiting for me if I do. So what is left, what more can I do?

My thoughts don't seem to get further than that before I feel the sedatives beginning to kick in, and my eyelids begin to get heavy as I stop struggling with the doctor, my body becoming relaxed against my wishes as my eyes slide closed once again.

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Review… don't review… I don't control your life… just the frequency of these updates.

www.houseofthehated.com


	16. Not So Safe Haven's

You always call me  
and ask me how I make it through the day  
I'm always fallin'  
I guess it's just god's way of making me pay

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When I was little, we used to have this cabinet in our kitchen that wasn't really used for anything, it was just another empty space in our house. We barely had enough money to fill the larger spaces like the living room or our bedrooms, let alone a small cabinet tucked in a far corner of the room that no one even noticed was there.

When my parents began fighting before my dad was taken away, I would try to get them to stop, I didn't want our family to turn out like all the others around us. There was nothing more pathetic than seeing two grown adults having screaming fights with each other while their five year old son was crying for them to stop. When they finally got tired of their fights being interrupted by a small voice begging them to stop, they decided to quiet it with a harsh slap to the face, one from each of them.

I can still feel the burning sting of their palms hitting my face, their cold eyes telling me to bug off and to stop wasting their air. It wasn't too long after that that the small empty cabinet became occupied. When they would fight, I would crawl into it and close the door, making sure it was closed tightly before pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs, whispering mantras to myself to try and block out the sound of their yelling, and the harsh words to each other.

The day the cops came to take my dad away I was hiding in the cabinet, my eyes burning with tears after one of the officers asked mom if anyone else was in the house, and she simply replied 'no', the tone in her voice making it clearly evident that she didn't even realize that I still existed at that moment. I heard my dad shouting at the cops, trying to struggle in their grasp, and the only thing I did was curl up further into the back of the darkened space, trying to hold my sobs back so that no one would know I was there.

It wasn't until almost three days later that I finally came out of the cabinet, three days since mom had left right after dad, and no one had come back since. I felt forgotten, like I didn't even exist, not until I fell asleep curled up in bed that night, and woke up the next morning with Trey sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on the wall in front of him, not even noticing me open my eyes.

"Trey… they left us."

My words caught in my throat, making them sound choked and strangled, and Trey slowly turned his head in my direction, his expression unreadable in my young age. He nodded his head, not trusting his voice at the moment, and I just stared at him, expecting him to answer every single question that was running through my head without me having to even ask. He just stared though, stared at me, at the sheets below me, the wall, anywhere that his eyes could land on. It seemed like hours before he finally got up and left the room, not saying anything as he used what little food we had left in the house to make us some food to eat.

After that, he left me to, told me he was going to try and find some more money and food. The second he left, I climbed back into the cabinet and fell asleep, staying there for who knows how long before I heard the loud yelling of two people arguing. One voice I had recognized as my mothers drunken one right away, the other wasn't identifiable until he left and I climbed out of the cabinet, quietly asking mom who it was that she was arguing with moments ago. It had only been a few days since dad was taken away, and mom had already began looking for men to take care of her, provide her with the drugs and alcohol she needed to survive.

That one guy that I saw through the small slit in the cabinet door was only to be one of many boyfriends of hers to come, each of them taking as much of me as they pleased, leaving me broken and battered in the cabinet where I cried myself to sleep in the darkness.

After a while, when I got too big for the cabinet, I started hiding in the closet where it was once again empty, all of the money we could have used for clothes going to feed moms many addictions. Drugs, alcohol, sex, you name it, she had to have it. When I hid in that cabinet, or the closet, everything around me seemed to disappear, all the noise, anger, and abuse just seemed to vanish into nothing, until I was forced to come out to get food or use the restroom.

The first few weeks I stayed at the Cohen's, I spent most nights sleeping in the closet, the space more confined since there we sheets and clothes in it, most of the clothes provided for me by the Cohen's that I hadn't even considered wearing. They never caught me sleeping in the closet, something I've always been thankful for, so on the occasions since moving here that I've felt the need to disappear from the world, I would slip into the closet once I knew everyone was asleep and set the alarm on my watch so that I would be able to wake up before anyone else.

This darkness that I'm surrounded by right now, the darkness that's consumed me for only god knows how long reminds me of the cabinet back in Chino, and the closet in the pool house. It's like my mind has found it's own little secret hiding place within the depths of my head, a place where voices are filtered out and pain is an unheard of concept. Every few minutes or so I feel someone squeezing my hand, and it's actually slightly comforting, knowing I can still feel things and that I'm not completely shut off from the outside world, not that I actually want to be a part of it anymore.

Weighing the options in my hands, being with the living where I have no family, no home, and no chance for an actual future, and living with the dead, having to deal with my mother at every second for the rest of eternity, I think this is the best decision. I think I've found a permanent cabinet inside my mind, one with a lock and no key so that there's no chance of someone getting into my protective space.

I know they're trying, I feel the pokes in my arms from the needles and the drugs entering my system, but they never get past the barriers I've crawled into, my safe haven that I've built around myself. I don't want to face any of them, see any of their let down and disappointed expressions. I just want things to go back to the way they were when I was younger, when mom and dad would get along, when Trey seemed like the perfect brother that I could always look up to, when things just all seemed so much more simple.

I see a small flicker of something in the dark around me, something far in the distance that catches my eyes, and I carefully get out of the corner I've been sitting in, taking cautious steps as I see the flash again. It looks like the glint of light off of something metal, and I feel my heart beat rapidly speeding up in my chest as I get closer, noticing the needle in someone's hand standing in the dark shadows.

This isn't happening, I know this isn't happening. No one was supposed to find me here, no one was supposed to be able to get in here like this. I slowly start backing up away from the person, hoping that he won't notice me close by, but it doesn't work as his head snaps up and he holds the needle up, taking a step towards me and causing me to turn and use all of my strength to run. There's a mental door nearby that I run into, slamming it closed and resting my back against it with all my strength as the voice of the person echoes throughout my mind.

"Ryan…. I know you're scared… but we're not going to hurt you."

His voice is calm, a little too calm, and I feel the wet tracks making their way down my cheeks as I push harder against the door, trying to shut out the voice coming from the other side and trying to get my mind to return to it's safe haven that it created before. I watch the doorknob turn shakily, and I jump to the other side of the small enclosed room, my eyes glittering with tears as a faint light begins to outline the edge of the door.

I sink to the floor and pull my knees to my chest, quietly telling the person to stop as I close my eyes tightly and bury them in my folded arms. After a few moments of quietness, I slowly open my burning eyes, closing them quickly when I'm blinded by a bright light.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I cry out loudly, trying to shrug away from it but not getting far as someone quietly says my name again, forcing me to slowly open my eyes again to the darker room, a familiar face hovering over mine, trying to stay in my line of sight. I try to pull away from the grasp of the person touching me, but something's holding my wrists down, keeping me firm against the bed that I'm laying on.

"Ryan, please calm down. No one's going to hurt you, you're safe here."

The voice is pleading as much as his eyes are, and I try to take a deep breath, anger burning in my eyes from being dragged out of my safe place and back into one of the last places I ever want to be. He tries to touch my cheek, wipe away the tears, but I force him away and close my eyes, trying to force myself back into the darkness, trying to find that safe spot away from everybody.

"Open your eyes Ryan, we need you to stay awake so you can get better."

"There's nothing wrong with me, I just want to go back, why did you bring me back here?"

I know I sound like a child screaming at him, but it doesn't stop me. No one was supposed to find me, I was supposed to be safe, and now…. Now I have absolutely no where to go. For the first time, I didn't let anyone else down, I let myself down.

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Last chapter seemed to be pretty popular, either that or it could have been the fact that I finally realized my reviews were set to only accept ff.net users only… oops. Thx for pointing that out to me benzbabidoll. Hope this chapter didn't confuse anyone, I know where this is going, it's just taking a bit of effort getting there. =P Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by next weekend, but I don't plan on being sober next weekend…. So we'll have to see how that goes.

benzbabidoll: Don't worry, he's going to come around, it just might not be to the Cohen's… if that makes sense. Thx for signing in to review. Lol.

muchtvs: He just happened upon him.

The House: Telling me to make a character calm down is like telling me to stop writing. Lol. I've written 40 fics, and I like to focus on the mind, twisting it a little bit. It's loads of fun to make people crazy.

Gator-Girl: It was only a few hours. Lol. And I'll explain a little more about the Cohen's in the next few chapters.

Gibasi: You had to wait less than a day, everyone else has been waiting a whole week. You've got it lucky for this chapter. Lol.

Everyone Else: Thanks for reviewing. You guys Rock!


	17. Chaotic Mess

Sorry this chapter's a bit short, but I figured anything was better than nothing since I keep getting the death threats. =D

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"Ryan-"

"They really don't want me to be around them anymore do they, that's why they sent me here? I finally pushed them too far and completely lost any trust they had in me. I should have known it would happen soon or later, I should have known it would be a whole lot sooner than later."

"They were here for you as long as they could be, but they had things they had to take care of in Newport. Everything's just happening a little to suddenly, for everyone, and they thought that you could use a bit of space from them."

"So they're having me locked up in some hospital so I can be babysat by someone who should have never bothered to help me in the first place? This is worse than my parents and my brother leaving me, at least when they left, they left me with a little bit of freedom. I wasn't locked in some room in a state I've never even been to before."

"The doors not locked and you have your freedom, but if you keep pushing your body and don't take a moment to let the wounds heal, you're just going to keep ending up in the same place. They thought bringing you here, getting you away from everything in California will give you a little more breathing space and room to start sorting out things."

"You mean they brought me here so that some shrink can try and pick at my thoughts, act like he knows what's going on with me when all he really knows is what's in my files, and believe me, that doesn't even begin to cover everything that's happened to me in the past. You people look at me and think that you've got it all figured out, but all of you are wrong."

"So explain it to me Ryan, enlighten all of us. We're trying to help you-"

"How the hell is any of this helping?"

"You're talking aren't you? Everything you've said in the past few minutes is proof that you're not only capable of sideways glares and only a few short words. I know you've got something to say, something you're really wanting to get out, so go for it."

My heads pounding from all the yelling that's going on, and I try to ignore Jimmy as I turn over in the bed with my back to him. He's not getting me to talk, he's the last person that's going to get me to talk and he better understand that really quickly. I don't want to be here, but if I really have to be and have no choice, I don't want him to be here with me.

"Gentlemen, do you mind if I ask what all the shouting is about? There are other people here besides yourselves, show a little respect next time."

The somewhat familiar voice of Dr. Jenkins appears from behind me as the door quietly closes, and I keep my back to both men as Jimmy explains that 'it was nothing'. The doctor doesn't believe his excuse for one moment as he asks him to step out into the hallway to give him a moment alone with me, and I feel a ball of nerves beginning to twist itself up in my stomach.

"Ryan, would you care to give me a bit of insight as to why you and Mr. Cooper were yelling in such a manner?"

The doctor sits in the seat that's right in front of where I'm facing, and I watch him closely as he crosses his legs and lets his clipboard rest on one knee, his pen unconsciously moving around between his fingers.

I hate this man, I hate him for bringing me back to a place where I don't want to be. I was safe in that dark closet tucked away in the depths of my mind, and he forced me back here. It's been two days and I have yet to talk to him, no matter how much he tries to get me to open up. I don't know him and he doesn't know me, so he had no right to do what he did.

"You can't just keep your thoughts and feelings bottled up forever, one day it might cause you to explode and hurt those around you that you don't intentionally want to hurt."

"And who would that be? People hurt me all the time, why can't I do it to them?"

He looks slightly surprised that I actually used my vocal chords, and after a moment of thought, he opens his mouth to speak again.

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Ryan."

"Yeah and a degree in psychology doesn't necessarily make you a good doctor, just someone who thinks he knows more about people then what he really does."

"It doesn't matter what I think, what matters is what you think of yourself and your feelings, everything you do is linked to a feeling. Hitting Sandy Cohen, a feeling of anger and betray. Telling Kirsten Cohen that she's just like your mother, a feeling of mistrust and fear towards your childhood."

"Is that why the Cohen's think I did it, because of some hidden feelings that relate them to my past? They're wrong if that's what they think, I told Kirsten exactly how I felt about her drinking, there was nothing hidden about that."

"And Sandy? From what I understand, you've never shown any physical violence towards your adopted family until that night. Seth said that you just lashed out at his father and took off."

Lashed out? He wouldn't let me leave the fucking house. He was trying to keep me a prisoner there, he was the one that was assaulting me by pushing me back the way he was, I was just learning from previous experience and hitting him before he could get a chance to do it to me.

The doctor's looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer, and I feel the anger quickly building in me. Why do I have to explain any of my actions to him, he really thinks I'm going to tell him every little aspect about my life just so he can go back to the Cohen's and filter the information back to them?

"If they want to know why I did or do anything, they can come ask me themselves instead of hiding behind some doctor. I'm through talking to you, so why don't you just get out of here and stop wasting my time. Better yet, why don't you just let me out of here and it will save us all a bit of time."

"Unfortunately I can't do that. Based on the assessment I received from the psychologist that saw you in the emergency room in California, you're a high risk to yourself and others around you. Mr. Cooper told me he found you on the beach on the brink of dieing and you tried to refuse help from him, in the emergency room you panicked and pulled your I.V's out of your wrists, and you have continuously prevented your injuries from healing."

I can't believe this, they think I'm going to harm others? Nothing he just said was any proof of that, just because I hit Sandy once, I'm all of a sudden some criminal who enjoys going out and beating the crap out of people? They're basically saying I'm my parents, wanting to go out and hurt people for no reason.

"I can see that you still need a bit of time to let this all sink in, but I hope you understand that the Cohen's are just trying to do what's best for you and your health. They said that they would come down in a few weeks after you're a bit more settled in and out of the infirmary, and until then Mr. Cooper will be here so you won't feel completely alone. Maybe you could give talking to him a shot, he seems to want to help as much as the Cohen's do."

Hardly, he's just here to report to the Cohen's every little thing I do, just like the doctor. There's no way I'm going to settle into this place, it's a fucking insane asylum and I can think of at least one other person who deserves to be here more than I do.

The doctor stares at me for a few seconds, obviously trying to figure out what I'm thinking, and after a while he silently stands up and walks over to the door, carrying his clipboard with him and nodding his head at me before walking out, leaving me alone in the quiet of the room and the chaos of my mind.

----

Review…. Please?


	18. Sacrificial Sanity

"They let him out of the infirmary last week, they say his wound is finally healing the proper way. They put him in a room by himself just to give him time to adjust to all of this, not that he is trying to at all. He has pretty much remained mute the whole time, hasn't really said anything to anyone except for one word answers, and that's only on very rare occasions. The doctor said it's the same in the therapy sessions, he only speaks when he absolutely has to. I've tried taking him to the TV room where a lot of the other patients are, but he just sat in a corner and kept his eyes on the floor."

Sandy and Kirsten Cohen stand next to Jimmy, all of their eyes focused on the teenager on the other side of the two way mirror. His eyes stare blankly at the ceiling as he lay on the bed, and he seems void of any emotion, as if he's incapable of feeling.

"Aren't they giving him medications, something to kind of help him open up?"

Jimmy looks at Kirsten, her face full of worry and pain as she stares at Ryan, they young man oblivious to the people watching him. The phone calls he gets everyday from his foster parents shows how much they want Ryan to get better, how much they really care about him, but Jimmy just can't get Ryan to understand that no matter how much he tries to drill it into him.

"They've tried a lot of medications, but he just seems susceptible to them. They don't seem to have any effect whatsoever on him. Right now he's just on Zoloft and a few other anti-depressants, but that doesn't seem to be working much either. It's like he's not ever there anymore."

Sandy pulls his wife close to his chest, rubbing her back as she quietly sobs. He knows that she blames all of this on herself for not being a good enough mother to him while she had the chance, but he also can't help but think that all of this was a long time coming.

Going through Ryan's files every night, seeing repeatedly all the stuff that happened to him growing up and knowing there was a lot more and a lot worse stuff that happened that wasn't in the files, he can't help but wonder how all of this didn't happen way before this. His mom and the rest of his biological family have put him through so much that it's a miracle he didn't snap long before now.

The awkward silence that hangs in the air between the three adults still staring through the window quickly disappears when the hear someone clear their throat, and Sandy's heart almost jumps out of his chest when he sees the doctor standing behind them, a clipboard in one hand and an attemptive smile on his face.

"Maybe seeing you both here might get him to open up a little more. Would you like to go in and see him?"

Kirsten is quick to nod her head, wanting to see Ryan but not having any idea of what she would say to him. She knows he'll hate them for bringing him here, but she wishes he would understand that it's for his own good and that it might really help him if he talked and opened up to the doctor.

The doctor leads the way into the room, the Cohen's and Jimmy following close behind him as he directs them to stay near the closed door, not wanting Ryan to panic and feel over crowded at the sudden swell of people standing in the room staring at him.

The teenager moves slightly as the doctor sits on the edge of the bed, staring at him for a brief moment before quietly saying his name, trying to get him to snap out of his reverie.

"Ryan, there's someone here who would really like to see you. Will you talk to the Cohen's?"

Everyone stares at him expectantly, hoping that he'll say something in response, but Kirsten lets out a quiet sob when Ryan simply turns on his side, putting his back to the people that are still staring at him.

"Why don't I give you a minute alone with him, and then we can discuss further treatments."

The doctor gets up from his spot and gives Kirsten a sympathetic look, holding the door open for Jimmy to go out before following, both men staring through the window at the minimal interaction between the three people still remaining in the room.

Kirsten walks over to the edge of the bed and claims the same spot that the doctor had before, Sandy following right behind her and sitting next to her. The older woman reaches in front of Ryan, and although he tries to pull away, she grabs his hand and holds it firmly in hers, wishing that he would just try to understand why he's here and that they're just trying to help.

"Ryan honey, will you please turn over and look at us. Yell at us, scream at the top of your lungs if you have to, just tell us what you're thinking and feeling. Why can't you understand that we're just trying to help you?"

Sandy lets out a frustrated sigh as he looks at the unresponsive teenager, trying to rack his mind with ways to get him to open up to someone, anyone. Shutting himself from the world isn't going to get him anywhere, it won't help him at all and he just doesn't get that.

"Ryan, you're mad at us and we get that, you might even hate us at the moment, but eventually you're going to open your eyes and see the bigger picture here. Everything that's happened to you growing up, it's had a major affect on you. Psychologically, emotionally, physically, and not all of it is your fault. I understand that you were used as a human punching bag growing up, you had a lot of shit done to you that not even I can bare to say out loud, and we get that, that's why we're trying to help you."

Sandy stares at Ryan, hoping that laying it all flat out would cause some sort of reaction to the teen, but he feels like he's repeatedly running head first into a brick wall with the kid as he remains silent. He could easily have given up on Ryan when the kid hit him, but he knew Ryan wasn't thinking straight when he did it. He saw his past, ever since his mom died, images from his past and present keep mixing together and it's starting to get to the point to where he can't separate them.

Ryan tries to push himself closer to the wall that the bed is against to get away from his foster parents behind him, but Sandy grabs his shoulder and forces him onto his back, the fear in his eyes causing the older man to curse himself for being forceful.

"Mr. And Mrs. Cohen, why don't we go back to my office and discuss all of this. I think Ryan's had enough for today."

Kirsten turns around to look at the doctor, but Sandy's eyes never leave Ryan's. The teenager is looking right at him, his eyes seeming to dig around in the older man's soul for something that Sandy's unsure of, and a violent chill goes up his spine as a flash of an unexplainable emotion appears in Ryan's eyes.

"Honey, just leave him be for now. It's clear that he doesn't want to talk to us right now."

Kirsten tries to be the voice of reason, grabbing her husband's arm and pulling him to his feet. She looks back at Ryan who's still looking at Sandy, and it's like she doesn't even know this kid anymore. The way he acts, the way he looks, he's just a completely different person from the one that showed up on their doorstep over a year ago, and Kirsten can't help but think that it's all their fault, that they're the ones that finally broke him.

"Mr. And Mrs. Cohen…"

The doctor snaps the two adults out of their thoughts as they turn around, and Ryan's dull eyes follow the retreating figures as they leave the room, closing the door behind them so that he's unable to get out of the room. The teen closes his eyes after a few moments, realizing that he's now being locked behind two doors: one that keeps him in this room, and another that keeps the nightmares of his past from leaving his thoughts.

The Cohen's follow the doctor down the hallway silently, occasionally looking at each other in an attempt to figure out what the other is thinking, but they stop their random glares when they get to the office and the doctor asks them to take a seat.

"I'm going to be straight forward with you regarding Ryan's condition, it's not looking too good. It's normal for a patient to get slightly worse before they get better, but in Ryan's case, it's gradually getting worse with no signs of improvement."

"As Mr. Cooper explained before, we've tried several medications to try and help him a little more, but it's like he's immune to them."

"Is there anything else we can try? How often does this type of thing occur?"

"We do have a few patients here that are like Ryan. No matter what medications are given to them, they're just unaffected by it."

"And how do you treat those patients?"

The doctor looks between Kirsten and Sandy, knowing that the next words out of his mouth are going to shatter them, but he knows he can't dance around the subject forever. The Cohen's need to know what they're really dealing with.

"The other patients we have like that… they're our long term care patients. Some of them have been here from between ten and fifteen years, others… they decide that life just isn't worth living anymore and they try multiple suicide attempts. We usually have to lock the patients in solitary for days, sometimes weeks on end to keep them from hurting themselves and others."

Sandy reaches over and pulls Kirsten to him, feeling his shirt become soaked with tears as his wife cries openly. The doctor stares at a paper sitting on his desk, trying to give the Cohen's a moment to let the information sink in. He knows they came here to find out if their foster son is getting any better, and he's guessing they never expected to hear that he may never come home again.

When the Cohen's finally manage to gather themselves the doctor clears his throat and opens his mouth to speak again, but he's cut off by a sharp knock on the closed door. He apologizes for the interruption before asking the other person to come in, and they all look in shock at the young nurse as the two short words pass her lips.

"Ryan's gone."


	19. Finding a Future

The words had barely left the nurses mouth before the doctor was out of his seat and running towards Ryan's room Kirsten and Sandy following close behind with worried expressions on their faces. In all the years that the doctor has worked at the institution, only two patients had ever managed to escape. One had returned a few days later in hysterics, realizing that the world they had become accustomed to was not the same on the outside, and the other was found a week later, hanging from a ceiling fan in the home that she had grown up in as a child.

The patients family had still lived in the house, but they had long since forgotten the young girl they sent away so many years before. She wanted them to see what they had done to her; She felt betrayed, unwanted, and she wanted her family to see how much they had killed her by locking her away like an animal. She planned everything out perfectly for weeks on end without anyone knowing. She knew how to get out, she remembered where her old home was, and she waited for her family to leave for church on that Sunday morning before she opened an unlocked window and climbed in, going to the bedroom she used to love playing in when she was a little girl. She climbed on a chair that she had placed in the middle of the room and wrapped the makeshift noose around her neck, kicking the chair out from under her as her lungs struggled for the air that would never come.

Deep in the doctor's mind, he knows that Ryan has the potential of being like that patient, wanting everyone around him to see what they've done to him, see how much he's really died since his life took a turn for the worse all those years ago. He's seen the files, the multiple hospital records where the kid had 'tripped' or 'fell'. He knows about what his mothers boyfriends would do to him while his mother was passed out on the couch, and although he's gotten away from that, he's still constantly faltering and falling along life's rocky path.

When the doctor reaches the room, a male nurse is standing by the open door with his eyes concentrated on the wall across from him, an extremely guilty look plaguing his face and making it evident to the doctor who's responsible for this. There's a few other nurses standing near him, talking quietly to themselves, but they soon turn in the direction of the doctor as he clears his throat, looking at all of them with the same amount of anger.

"How could Mr. Atwood have possibly disappeared like this? This door was locked just a few moments ago when I left, and now the patient's missing."

"Sir, I take full blame for this. When I came in to give him his medicine, he wasn't in his bed so I assumed he was in the bathroom. I only had my back to the door for just a few seconds, he must have slipped out then without me noticing.

The doctor looks at the man in front of him furiously before going into the room, checking one last time to see if Ryan is there before telling one of the other nurses to have security check every room in the building. The nurse quickly nods her head before leaving the room, and the doctor turns around to see the Cohen's staring at him, Kirsten on the verge of tears once again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, I'm extremely sorry about this, our staff isn't usually this incompetent. John is still trying to learn the ropes of the facility, but I assure you he will be severely reprimanded. As for Ryan, I honestly don't believe that he left the grounds, this is a very secure facility, and it would be very hard for him to get out without the security noticing."

"If he can slip out that easily without someone noticing in the first place, how am I supposed to trust this place with his well being? What if he did manage to leave and he's out there where we can't find him? He's sick, he needs to be helped, but I'm starting to doubt your ability to turn him around at all. I want you to find him, bring him back here to us, and then we're taking him home."

---

The hallways are stark quiet as Jimmy walks down them, all of the patients in their rooms as security goes from door to door looking for Ryan. The lock down reminds him of a scene from a prison movie he once saw, and for the first time since all of this began, he seems to understand what some of the patients might be feeling like here, especially Ryan. He never really considered this place to be like a prison, but now he's starting to see why Ryan feels betrayed. The Cohen's rescued from him jail, only to put him back behind locked doors in a place and a state he'd never even been to. They left him in almost the same way that his mother did, but he's right, at least his mother left him with his freedom.

The sound of security coming down the hallway pulls Jimmy from his thoughts, and he takes a turn down another hallway, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of the frantic search. As he walks past all the closed doors, he shakes visibly from a chill going down his spine, the desolate hallway beginning to get to him. In the weeks that he has been here and walked these hallways, it's never been so quiet and empty the way it is now.

As he gets close to the end of the hallway, Jimmy notices a door that's slightly opened and he cautiously walks towards it, knowing that the room belongs to a girl half of Ryan's age that has continuously been found staring through the double-sided mirror into Ryan's room. The doctor says that she's harmless, that she was a def mute that was brought here after her parents were murdered, and Jimmy hopes that the doctor's right about being harmless as he pushes the door open all the way, spotting the young girl sitting Indian style in the middle of her bed, staring blankly in front of her.

The room is dark except for a small night light near the bed and the light filtering in the hallway, and Jimmy notices the child lightly shaking, the stuffed animal she's got in her arms being choked against her body as silent tears slide down her pale cheeks.

"Stephanie, what's wrong?"

Jimmy slowly approaches the small girl, afraid that she might get scared away, but she doesn't move a bit as she stares at the small closet across from the foot of the bed. The look on her face reminds the older man of when Marissa was younger and she thought that monsters were hiding in the closet, so he decides to put the child at ease as he walks over to the closet and pulls open the door, jumping back when he notices the huddled figure sitting on the floor of the closet.

"Ryan, you scared the crap out of me. What are you doing in here?"

The teen doesn't move as he keeps his legs pulled to his chest and his face buried in his knees, and Jimmy cautiously walks back over to the closet, kneeling down next to Ryan and carefully wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him out of the confined space. He puts his hands on either side of Ryan's face and forces him to look up, trying to look into the tear filled eyes.

"Ryan-"

"I just want to be alone."

His words are barely above a whisper, but after weeks of silence, it reaches Jimmy's ears loud and clear as he sits back, moving slightly away from the teen. The request is reasonable, considering he's been locked up in a more secure room since he's been out of the infirmary, and Jimmy feels himself starting to question the motives. Ryan hasn't done anything to make him think that he's any danger to anyone, so why lock him away in a room away from everyone else?

"We just want you to talk to us-"

"Do you know what will happen if I die?"

The sudden question throws Jimmy off as he looks at Ryan confused and slightly shocked, nodding his head negatively in hopes that Ryan will keep talking, open up to what he's thinking and feeling.

"When I die, Dawn will be waiting for me. She'll want me to forgive her for everything she's ever done to me, every time she abandoned me. She'll wrap her arms around me, the ones covered in track marks, and she'll tell me how much she loves me and that she's sorry for all the beatings and broken bones that I got just for being a 'nuisance' to her and her boyfriends. And you know the worst thing about it? I wont be able to escape it because I'll be dead. There won't be a place for my to hide or run from her. I'm sure they don't have cabinets or closets there, so I'll have to suffer with her for the rest of my life."

Jimmy stares at Ryan wide eyed, slightly shocked at the rush of words leaving the teenagers mouth that are followed by a quiet sob. It takes a moment for all the words to sink in, but when they do, Jimmy wraps his arms around Ryan's body, not letting go even when the teen starts to hit him in the chest. In Jimmy's mind, everything is beginning to piece together like a jigsaw puzzle. The way Ryan's acting, the way his past keeps filtering into his presence, the kid is being forced to handle much more weight then he should have to. If he dies he has to face his mother, but if he lives, he's got to keep dealing with everyone abandoning him and turning their backs on him.

"Ryan, we're not going to let that happen to you, not without putting up a serious fight. All of us care about you."

Ryan nods his head against Jimmy's chest, and the older man can feel the anger slowly rising in the sixteen year old as he gradually raises his voice.

"Who's 'all of us'? The Cohen's? They took me from one cell and put me in another, from a blue jump suit to blue medical scrubs. They knew what they were getting into when they took me in, Sandy knew all about my past. They thought they could change me, make me be the rich snob that everyone else in New Port is, but they can't see that I'm already fucked up. The damage is done, there's no going back and fixing it."

Jimmy sits back and lets Ryan vent, knowing that all of this has been building up for years, and he realizes that the only thing he needs right now is for everyone to just shut up and listen to him. He doesn't want someone to tell him he's wrong, or people to agree with him just to humor him, he's ready for his voice to be heard.

"You know, when I was younger I used to hide in the closet of the kitchen cabinet, pretend that no one would ever find me, but they always did after a while. My mom's boyfriends would treat me like a child, baby talk me to get me to come out, and then they would lay right into me…. In more ways than one. On some rare occasions, she would take me to the emergency room and tell them I fell, but not once did she ever take me to a doctor when she would find me lying on the floor half naked, blood on my backside and on the carpet. She would put me in a freezing cold bath and tell me that I should learn to be a man if I didn't want things like that to happen to me, and then she would walk out. You don't know how many times I just wanted to submerge myself in the water, flow with the liquid down the drain when the plug in the tub was pulled."

Jimmy makes no attempt to stop Ryan as he pulls away, his back resting against the wall as the other man stares at him shocked. He knew that the teen was abused physically and verbally growing up, but he never imagined the abuse reaching sexual levels. He wonders if the Cohen's know about this, if Sandy knows. If he were never taken to the hospital after it happened, then chances of it being in his record are very slim.

Ryan opens his mouth, ready to talk again after a brief pause, but the light from the doorway is clouded as a member of security stands firm in place, not taking a chance of letting Ryan leave their sight again. Jimmy can see the scared expression on Ryan's face as he looks at the large man staring back at him, and the need to try and protect him overcomes the older man as he stands up and moves close to Ryan. blocking the teen as the doctor quickly rushes into the room, Sandy and Kirsten still fast on his trail.

"Oh my gosh Ryan, we were terrified. What are you doing in here honey?"

Kirsten tries to wrap her arms around Ryan, but he pushes himself further against the wall, the urge to talk now completely gone. Sandy stands near his wife, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Jimmy looks on as Ryan buries his face in his knees once again.

"Do you mind if we get a minute alone with him?"

Sandy points the comment at the doctors and security personnel, and Jimmy stands firm in his spot as the doctor pulls Stephanie into his arms and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Ryan, I know you really don't like us at the moment, but I want you to just hear us out. Will you at least look up so that we know you're awake and listening?"

When he doesn't respond, Jimmy kneels down next to him and whispers something into his ear, letting his hand rest on the back of Ryan's neck as the teen finally looks up, not staring straight at the Cohen's but in their general direction. Kirsten looks at Jimmy questioningly, and she realizes that something must have happened between the two men before they came and found them in here.

"The doctor says that you're not responding to any of your medications. They keep giving you anti-depressants and you keep staying in the same condition. You're obviously not getting any better here, you seem a bit worse, so we think it's best that we take you back home. You can move in the guest bedroom, we can change it however you want to. We'll see about getting you into therapy a couple times a week, I know a really good doctor. We just want you to come home now."

Guest bedroom… home… the words contradict each other in so many ways. People live in homes, it's where they can go to feel loved and know that somehow things might be okay. Guest bedrooms are for people who won't be staying long. It's for brief visits, for someone who doesn't belong in the home. Ryan doesn't want to be that person, the guest, but he knows he will never be a part of that family. The Cohen home isn't an option for him anymore.


	20. Sooner or Later

Disclaimer: Fox owns the show and everyhing involved.

Last chapter. Sorry it took so long to post, but I was waiting for it to be proofed and the person never responded, so I did what I could with fixing any errors.

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Ryan sits emotionless in the corner of the room, his piercing blue eyes following the older man that moves around, gathering clothes from the temporary dresser and stuffing them into the small duffel bag that's sitting on the end of the bed, it's contents minimal and the possessions not his own. He can feel Ryan watching him from the spot on the floor, his eyes burning holes into the skin, and he can't help but smile to himself, feeling and hoping that the teens life might actually begin to get better with the new arrangement that's been set up for him.

It was a big decision that was made amongst all of them, and the only one that seemed to fit the teens needs most outside of the hospital. He won't have to deal with being in the confining institution anymore, eyes constantly watching his every move and waiting for something to happen, and he won't have to deal with the stresses of going back to Newport and dealing with all the 'snobs' that inhabit the town. That alone is a hard thing to handle, coupled with what he's currently going through, and a horrible disaster would be sure to ensue, so keeping him away from that seems to be the best option at the moment. At the same time, he'll constantly be around someone that he knows, and will hopefully learn to trust more with time.

The older man's line of thought is side tracked when the door to the room opens, and Ryan's gaze slowly drift's to the older woman standing just inside the doorway, a small smile gracing her face as she holds some papers in her hands and walks over to Jimmy just as he zips up the duffel bag, picking it up and throwing it over his shoulder.

"So are we clear to go? Did the doctor sign the discharge papers?"

Kirsten's smile falters ever so slightly and Jimmy knows right away what the answer is to his question without her even needing to open her mouth. The doctor is highly opposed to releasing Ryan from his care, saying that he's a danger to himself and to the community, something that no person wants to hear regarding one of their children, adoptive or not.

Kirsten hands the other man the papers that she's been holding in her hand, and Jimmy pulls her into a hug without bothering to look at them, knowing that she didn't want to have to sign Ryan out of the hospital 'AMA', against medical advice. If anything were to ever happen, the courts can very easily see that Ryan wasn't well when they took him out of the hospital, and they could lose custody of him in an instant. They would be blamed for letting him back into the community even though they were specifically told that he's a danger to everyone.

"I know you wanted the doctor to give you the thumbs up to take him out of here, but sometimes a mother's instincts are more in tune than some doctor's opinions on who's mentally stable and who's not. The doctor said it himself that Ryan may never get better after all of this, so what's the point in keeping him locked up like a caged animal? We both know that it would take a lot to make Ryan snap again, at least he'll have some sort of normalcy in his life outside of these walls."

Kirsten reluctantly nods before turning her head slightly in Ryan's direction, catching his eyes just before he casts them to the ground, a flicker of emotion burning deep within his orbs that she's only able to see in the split second that she sees his eyes. The emotion isn't known right away, but it doesn't matter to the other woman. All she knows is that when she first came here a few days ago, there was no sign of life in the blue eyes, now there's something that's slowly beginning to spark within them ever so lightly.

The smile that died away before returns when she realizes that he's trying to hide the unknown emotion from other eyes like a game of hide and seek, and she pulls away from Jimmy before walking over to the corner that Ryan is sitting in and kneeling down in front of him, gently grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at her, his eyes staring blankly at a spot somewhere behind the older woman. The emotion that was there before has disappeared for now, but she feels that with time it will come back, make it's presence known when Ryan is ready to display it to the world.

"How about we get you out of this place before you really become crazy from having to deal with such strange people… and that's just the staff. I can think of at least one person that's obviously giddy over your return. I think Sandy's about ready to choke the life out of Seth from rambling non stop about things we stopped trying to figure out long ago. You seem to understand him a lot more than we do these days."

She lightly kisses Ryan on the forehead before grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet, and Jimmy wraps his arm around the teens shoulder as Kirsten opens the door and they walk out of the room, the doctor looking at them in a disapproving manner as Ryan focuses his eyes on the tiled floor below him, allowing himself to be taken outside where Sandy's waiting next to a rental car, the trunk open and three duffel bags occupying the space while the fourth is taken from Jimmy and fit in right next to them. After closing the trunk, Sandy walks over to Ryan and wraps his arms around the thin teen, kissing the top of his head before releasing his grip and following everyone as they get into the car, Ryan sitting in the back seat with Kirsten, his hand grasped firmly between hers in her lap.

"Is everyone settled in?"

Sandy waits for everyone's silent replies before putting the car in gear and driving towards the airport, glancing back at the teen in the rear view mirror every few minutes, the blue eyes staring out the window like he's really deep in though about something unknown.

---

The short flight back to California and the ride to the apartment just outside of Newport seems longer then what it really is, and the three adults let out a silent sigh of relief when they finally get to the apartment building, their nerves building up inside awaiting to see how Ryan reacts to being out of the hospital, and more specific, being back in California where all of his problems first began. They thought that getting him not only from Newport and Chino, but away from the state in general would help him get through things, but it's evident that something as simple as that wouldn't make much of a difference on the things that are going through Ryan's mind.

He follows Kirsten like an attached puppy up to the apartment door while Sandy and Jimmy stay behind to get the duffel bags, and the older woman notices Ryan step behind her as she slides the key into the lock, turning it slowly before pushing the door open and stepping inside, Ryan following cautiously when he sees Seth standing just inside the door, a smile on his face.

The two brothers stare at each other for a brief moment before Seth gets around his mom and wraps his arms around Ryan, pulling him into a tight hug. The disappointment in Seth's face is evident as Ryan's arms stay limp at his side, but he tries to act unphased as he grabs the silent teen by the wrist and pulls him from behind Kirsten, hearing the door close behind them when Jimmy and Sandy finally reach the apartment door, Ryan and Jimmy's duffel bags being carried over their shoulder's.

"Seth honey, why don't you take Ryan upstairs and help him get settled into his room, your father and I will come to get you when it's time to go."

Seth nods his head before taking off up the stairs two at a time, Ryan glancing at the adults for a split second before slowly making his way up the steps, following the sound of his name until he comes to a room at the end of the hallway that Seth is standing in.

The walls lack any sort of decoration other than the light blue paint and a shelf that sits on one side, and Ryan slowly walks over to it and stares at the multiple picture frames that are sitting on it, the smile of his past encased in the glass that's protecting the short lived memories. Pictures of random charity evens reflect the slight smile that Ryan held at them, the teen wishing that he could escape back to the pool house where it was quiet and he could be alone.

Seth sits on the edge of the bed watching his adopted brother, his mind reeling with thoughts of what to say to the other man. Coming up with things to say has never been a hard task for him to accomplish, but at this moment in time, after everything his parents have told him about the "new" Ryan, he isn't sure what not to say to prevent the teen from going off on him. The last time he had seen Ryan, he wasn't so sure he wanted the other boy to be part of his family anymore after seeing him hit Sandy, the hatred in his eyes shining above everything else as he watched the other teen storm out of the house.

His insides kept yelling at him to go after Ryan, to keep him from doing anything stupid after the things he had been dealing with, but all he could do was stare at the open door, his fists clinched unconsciously at his side. He knew if he did go after Ryan, he would regret something that would definitely be said or done, and he didn't want to have to put either of them through that with their current situation.

"So Ryan… do you want to play some video games or something? Jimmy put a whole set-up in here for you."

The sudden voice in the room catches Ryan off guard, causing him to drop the picture that he had picked up from off the shelf, the glass cracking right across Ryan's face in the picture. Seth reaches down to pick up the picture, examining the broken glass before trying to hand it back to Ryan, but the teen backs away from Seth's outstretched hand, looking at the picture frame like it's going to burn him if he gets too close to it.

"Hey man, it's only a little crack, no big deal."

When Seth realizes that Ryan's not going to take the picture, he sets it back on the shelf where it was before, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ryan cautiously walks over to the bed and sits down, his eyes staring blankly at the large entertainment center in front of him that's equipped with a TV, DVD Player, and multiple game systems. After a few seconds of just watching him, Seth walks over to the bed and sits next to his brother, still wondering what he could possibly say to a person he feels that he doesn't really even know anymore.

Seeing all of the stages Ryan has gone through since he first came to Newport, it all seems like his life was suddenly put in fast forward when he found out that his mom died, and someone decided to play a cruel joke on him and hit the pause button now, locking him in a world of silence and mistrust. On the rare chance that he does actually talk now, it's only to Jimmy, which is why he is now living with the older man. In staying on the outskirts of town, he won't have to deal with being thrust back into the Newport life and all the stress it causes.

"Do you want me to just go Ryan? I'm sure you're tired from the flight and stuff. I'll just lea-"

"I'm sorry."

Seth looks at Ryan a bit confused, caught off by hearing Ryan's voice so broken and empty, and before he can ask what the other is sorry for, Ryan continues just above a whisper, causing Seth to lean in a bit closer so that he's able to hear him properly.

"I shouldn't have hit Sandy, you have every right to hate me."

"Ryan man, that's in the past. We're starting over, clean slate. Everything bad that ever happened before today, forgotten; it doesn't matter anymore."

Ryan doesn't say anything else, just sits motionless on the bed, and Seth shifts around next to him uncomfortably knowing deep inside that Ryan doesn't agree with his statement. The past can never be forgotten, not for Ryan, and it will always matter to the teen. His past has made him who he is today, the empty shell that's afraid of everyone and everything, and he'll always blame the people from his past for it.

"Seth, we've got to get going, it's starting to get late and you've got school in the morning."

Seth turns his head at the sound of Kirsten's voice, and Ryan does the same just as the adults walk into the room, Kirsten in the lead with Sandy and Jimmy behind her. She goes straight for Ryan and pulls him up off the bed to his feet, hugging him tight enough so he's unable to breathe for a minute before Sandy pulls her away and takes over, hugging lighter than his wife.

"If you ever need anything, you can call us day or night and we'll be here. You have both of our cell phone numbers, and you can call them anytime, at least one of them will always be on. We'll come by to check on you and you can come by the house anytime you want to just hang out or spend the night, you're always welcome."

Sandy pulls away mid sentence and Ryan stares anywhere but his eyes, listening to the man's ramblings before his body is crushed against Seth's, the teens arms wrapping around the thin body as if he were his lifeline. Jimmy notices the panicked look etching across Ryan's face when Seth doesn't let go after a moment, and he lightly pulls the two away from each other, laughing and patting Seth on the back as he quietly apologizes to Ryan.

"Okay, so I think Ryan's had enough hugging for one day. Maybe we'll come over for dinner or something next week if he's feeling up to it."

Ryan stands near Jimmy, his eyes now cast to the ground, and Jimmy rests his hand on his shoulder squeezing it gently to try and reassure the tense teen as the Cohen's agree and say 'goodbye' one last time before leaving the room, the apartment door down stairs closing moments later.

The second the door closes downstairs, Ryan falls back onto the bed, catching Jimmy off guard for a moment and causing him to jump. Ryan doesn't notice the other man's reaction as he pulls himself up the bed until his head lands on the pillow, laying on his side with his back to the shelve of pictures and Jimmy.

"Tomorrow we'll worry about getting you unpacked and buying some stuff for your room. Sandy brought over the stuff from the pool house, and Kirsten brought over some pictures that she found in a photo album she's been working on."

Ryan listens to the movement of Jimmy walking around behind him, and he struggles to keep his eyes open. This will be the first time in weeks that he'll be able to fall asleep without the aid of medication, and he can't help but wonder why he was ever given sleeping pills in the first place. He never had a problem going to sleep, in fact he wished he could do nothing but sleep, but it seems that the doctor got things backwards.

"We'll try to take this week slow to kind of get you settled in. You've got an appointment scheduled with Sarah Johnson on Wednesday, she's one of the highest rated psychologist in California. She's already been filled in on the basics, but she said she wants to figure everything else out by meeting with you. She's really good, and I hope you give her a chance."

Ryan averts his eyes from the wall across the room to the man sitting on the edge of the bed when he feels the mattress dip down suddenly, and he closes his eyes when he sees the broken picture in Jimmy's hand. His fight to stay conscious is becoming a losing battle, and he struggles to open his eyes a slit when Jimmy quietly talks again.

"What happened to the picture?"

Ryan stares at the picture through blurred vision, tears beginning to sting at the corners of his eyes, and he turns his head and buries his face in the pillow, feeling a hand resting on his back as he does so.

"Ryan-"

"I'll always be broken."

Jimmy stares down at Ryan, his heart jumping into his throat at the muffled words coming from the teens mouth, and he struggles with his own tears as he leans down so their heads are touching, listening to the sound of Ryan sniffling into the pillow. The body under his hand begins to shake as muffled sobs begin to fill the room, and Jimmy pulls Ryan closer to him, whispering in his ear.

"We're going to do everything we can to fix whatever you feel is broken. And I promise, things will get better from here."

----

El Fin.

There will be a sequel, but I'm not sure when. The whole reason I'm ending it right now is because I can't seem to keep up with it, so I figured I'd end it for the time being so I can get caught up with other things. Believe me, I've got over twenty current unfinished fics, and I'm trying to end them all right now. Not an easy task. Hope you enjoyed, thx for all the reviews (although it seems that all my reviewers have disappeared by now).


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